Queen In The North
by KingAlanI
Summary: By Alan Gilfoy in the world of George R.R. Martin. AU early in the War of the Five Kings. Drogo dies, but Rhaego survives. Much of the khalasar stays with the son and the mother's newly hatched dragons. The horde moves towards Westeros. King Robb does not marry Jeyne, and soon finds his new rival from the east a much more tempting reason to break the Frey pact.
1. Daenerys I

"_Khaleesi?_" Ser Jorah Mormont asked from outside the tent.

"Yes, Jorah?" Daenerys Targaryen said to answer one question with another.

"I've heard intriguing rumors from Westeros," he said, still talking through the tent fabric. She was inside the tent with her handmaidens Doreah, Irri and Jhiqui.

"I'll be ready shortly," Daenerys said crisply.

She had been married off to the Dothraki warlord Khal Drogo to advance her family's political fortunes. Somewhat ironically, this gave her some distance from her cruelly temperamental brother Viserys. Irri and Jhiqui, Dothraki themselves, were Daenerys' introduction into that strange world. They were both good teachers, Irri focusing on horseback riding and Jhiqui on the Dothraki language.

Doreah had given her advice on how to please Drogo. Daenerys was too young and inexperienced to know about such things. Doreah was also too young, but unfortunately, she was too experienced. _Well, this was a b__etter life than the brothel for her_, Daenerys thought. Now her only customers were Viserys and Illyrio Mopatis, the fat merchant who had arranged the marriage.

Doreah, Irri and Jhiqui had been amongst the wedding gifts. They were fast becoming more than servants to her, but right now they were working – they were almost done dressing her. That was a challenge now that she was several months pregnant with Drogo's son. Drogo had hunted a hrakkar, a white lion, and made Daenerys a cloak out of its pelt. That garment did not fit any more.

She made especially sure to be fully dressed around Jorah. He was looking at her as more than a queen, the one thing that aggravated her about the loyal servant. "Ser Jorah, you may enter," Daenerys called out.

"As you wish, _Khaleesi_," he replied as he ducked under the tent flap. "The Usurper is dead!" he said triumphantly.

"Excellent, but how have you heard?"

"Sailors from trade ships plying the Narrow Sea have brought some very intriguing news, and that's hardly all of it," Jorah answered.

"Go on, then," Daenerys ordered.

"The usurper's son Joffrey sits the Iron Throne. The usurper's eldest brother Stannis had crowned himself, insisting that the usurper's supposed children were truly fathered by the queen's brother."

"So his queen was the only woman in Westeros he wasn't bedding?" Daenerys sarcastically responded. She knew the harsh truth of Robert Baratheon – not only did he steal the throne away from her family, he spent his time in power eating, drinking and whoring. A relationship between brother and sister was not so surprising to a Targaryen

Jorah particularly enjoyed the jape, but quickly got back to business. "Stannis says the Iron Throne is his by right."

"He would be the Usurper's heir. If he is honest about doing his duty, he shall recognize that the throne is truly mine by right. If not, a Dothraki horde will make him recognize," Daenerys said with authority, a voice of command that came naturally to her.

"Exactly," Jorah affirmed. Their youngest brother Renly had crowned himself for unknown reasons. Lord Eddard Stark told the same tale of Joffrey's parentage, and Joffrey had him executed for it. His son Robb leads the North in rebellion against the pretender. And so we have a fourth king." _We aren't even women and m__en grown and look at us_, Daenerys mused.

"How old is the new Lord Stark?" Daenerys wondered.  
"Mayhaps five-and-ten, Your Grace," Jorah answered. _He is not yet a man grown yet he seems to be acting like one_, Daenerys mused. _Considering myself at four-and-t__en, I would understand._

The Usurper had killed Prince Rhaegar and then had Rhaegar's children killed. Viserys had made himself an enemy of the Dothraki and was killed by them. This left Daenerys as the only known living descendant of Aerys II.

The Dothraki did not normally deal in currency or ships. However, Drogo's _khalasar_ would need to buy passage across the Narrow Sea to Westeros to bring their forces to bear for House Targaryen. So they went to raid a peaceful shepherding town, and found another _khalasar_ there doing the same. Drogo personally defeated its _khal_ Ogo and _khalakka _Fogo, two more victories in Drogo's long unbroken string of them, a string of bells in his hair as per the Dothraki tradition.

Daenerys was not ashamed of war, but she could not tolerate the rape that came after the battle. She used what authority she had in her voice and in her title to interrupt it when she came across it. One of the relieved women was a healer and went to tend the wounds Drogo had received during the battle. This helped lend Drogo's support to the righteous enterprise.

However, the initial treatment was not working, and Drogo fell ill. Mirri tried to save him with dark magic. Some Dothraki warriors were annoyed they couldn't have an enemy woman against her will, but dark magic was a universal fear of their culture. Irri and Jhiqui had made that plain enough to Daenerys. She needed to respect the Dothraki culture to earn the respect of the Dothraki people. Failure to learn that lesson had cost Viserys his life.

Daenerys was determined that it wouldn't lead to her death – or the death of her son. The Dothraki refused to go near the tent where Mirri was casting spells on Drogo. This included the Dothraki midwifes, and Daenerys was going into labor. By staying away from Mirri, Daenerys was able to obtain the help that mother and child needed. Once the umbilical cord was cut, Daenerys wrapped her hands around the baby's waist and triumphantly held him up into the air. Jhiqui would be pleased with her Dothraki right about now. "_Khalakka dothrae!_" she bellowed. _The prince is riding! _Even the guttural Dothraki language was a more pleasant sound than her cries of childbirth pain.

"_Rakh haj!_" the crowd answered in a repeated chant. _A strong boy!_ Most of the group were women, but there were a few men, notably her _khasari_, the personal guards Jhogo, Aggo and Rakharo.

"_Ma me nem ahakee ma Rhaego!_" Daenerys exclaimed. _He shall be called Rhaego!_ "_Gaezo Rhaegar ma mahrazhkem Drogo_," she explained. _Brother Rhaegar __and husband Drogo_

The chant switched to just the name 'Rhaego'.

Meanwhile, even Mirri's extreme spells had left Drogo for dead. An angered Daenerys had Jorah rudely drag Mirri in front of her for questioning. "He lives, that is all I promised," she stammered.

"Not for long!" Daenerys snapped.

"After his horde destroyed my village, killed or enslaved those I knew, and his warriors ravaged me and many others, do you really think I owed him anything?" she answered defiantly.

"It is no matter. You will be burnt along with him when he leaves this world," Daenerys decreed. "Life for life, as you also promised."

Daenerys holding Rhaego and a few others approached the spot where Drogo was sitting in agony. The sight of his wife and son brought a momentary smile to his pained face. "Make sure the boy grows strong enough to rule for himself," Drogo said. The handmaidens eventually came to carry the baby back to the tent, and the other guests also soon departed. The two were soon left alone as the life faded from Drogo. For weeks she would be too raw to take a man inside her, as the midwives had emphasized, but Doreah had taught her many other ways, and so the khal left this world with pleasure from his khaleesi's mouth, hands and breasts.

A bloodrider was guard, friend and brother to his khal, something beyond the Kingsguard of Westerosi tradition. It was the last duty of a dead khal's bloodriders to escort his widow to join that group. That was one Dothraki tradition Daenerys did not want to submit to. "I can do more with my life than live it out with a group of old widows," she said confidently. At this Drogo's bloodriders Cohollo, Qotho and Haggo attacked. However, Jorah and her khasari fought them off. She wanted the khasari as her bloodriders, but they hesitated to follow a woman, even this woman.

Drogo's body was to be burnt along with his possessions. Daenerys stood by the assemblage with three of hers – dragon eggs. They were her wedding gifts from Illyrio. She was blood of the dragon, she could weather these simple flames, not only survive them, but emerge from the ashes with the first living dragons in well over a century. She felt the flames burn her clothes away. She heard the eggs crack. She saw the three dragons emerge. One was black and red, one green and bronze, the other white and gold, all matching the colors of the eggs they had hatched from. Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion, named after her husband and brothers. She rose from the ashes with Rhaegal and Viserion perched on her shoulders and Drogon held in front of her.

The sight of living dragons changed everything. "Blood of my blood," Jhogo, Aggo and Rakharo finally offered. The Dothraki followed strength, and these three were hardly the only ones who saw that in even recently-hatched dragons.

However, much of the khalasar had already found that in a much more conventional source. Tens of thousands of riders had already departed with Drogo's general Jhaqo, who had made himself a khal. Mago rode as one of his bloodriders. Those two names were painfully familiar. _I have no need of those rapers_, Daenerys thought to herself, _for I am_ "The Unburnt, Mother Of Dragons," as the crowd called out. Even without Jhaqo and the other breakaway khals, the assemblage was still tens of thousands strong. "Mother of Khal Rhaego," they continued.

Irri brought her the boy, as surely blood of the dragon as she was, so it made sense for him to become acquainted with that as soon as possible.

The slavers had offended her as much as the rapers. She had shielded as many captives as possible by taking them into her personal custody. Now she spoke to all of them. "This khalasar's slaves are hereby freed," she said, simply but powerfully.

Doreah, Irri and Jhiqui stepped forward. Irri and Jhiqui had themselves been captured in some of Drogo's long-ago battles. Many captives of the recent battle rushed to join them, staying with her, giving Daenerys yet another title as they surged forth. "Breaker of chains!"

"That was quite wise, _Khaleesi_," Jorah said to her softly. "If you wish to rule Westeros, you must act as they do, and they have absolutely no tolerance for slavery. I would know. I learned that the hard way. Selling criminals into slavery instead of submitting them to standard punishments is not a good way to support an expensive wife." _That must have been why he went into exile. The particu__lar revelation pained Daenerys f__ar more than Jorah's overly interested gaze._

"A queen must have a king. It is known," Irri reminded her.

Stannis married years after the War of the Usurper, but years before the present conflict. Renly had wed the daughter of one of his major allies. Even if they had been single, Daenerys would not have them. Marrying one older man for politics rather than love had been more than enough.

Drogo had worked out, but another could be much worse. If she was so miserable, she wouldn't care so much about who sat the Iron Throne. Furthermore, maybe she had resigned herself to her fate, thinking Drogo was better than he actually was. She remembered the nights when Drogo took her from behind and the pillow muffled her cries. Drogo was the only love she had known, so what did she have to compare him to?

She would never associate with the pretender Joffrey, let alone in so intimate a manner. Robb could prove to be much more reasonable. As she confided in her handmaidens, "If I was to marry again, he would be not so bad."


	2. Robb I

**A/N**

7 follows and 4 favorites within a day of posting the first chapter, amazing! Review too? :)  
I revised chapter 1 – expanded the dragon birth scene, and added Daenerys' reaction to Jorah's reveal of his slavery incident. Here's the second chapter, which was almost done anyway. Now I introduce Robb's side of the story.

**Chapter**

_King In The North! King In The North!_ The chant led by his bannerman Lord Jon Umber echoed in Robb Stark's head. As Westeros fell apart, a Stark was the only king his fellow northmen felt they could follow.

The northern army had recently begun raiding the Westerlands – they had won a major victory at Oxcross and a minor one at Ashemark before storming a small fortress on the coast known as The Crag. Like Ashemark, it was an easy victory, and the castle was captured, but Robb had sustained an arrow wound in this battle.

Robb needed someone to tend to his wound. Maester Luwin was amongst the Stark staff that had stayed at Winterfell – not serving him in the field, not massacred along with his father in King's Landing. The man was too old to travel anyways.

Robb didn't move from the place where he was injured, not wanting to aggravate the wound. He called out "Maester!" With an arrow sticking out of his leg, it was obvious why he needed one.

"We don't have one," a smooth voice answered. It belonged to a young woman with brown hair and eyes. Looking at her thin body and smooth face, Robb thought _She's pretty, I suppose._ As his father's heir, he had focused on political and military affairs rather than wenching. It made sense that they don't have a maester – The Crag was the seat of House Westerling, old and proud but also small and poor. _Now what are we going to do about that?_ Robb thought. "In the absence of a maester, I've learned how to treat wounds like that," the girl continued.

"So be it," Robb said flatly.

Another Jon Umber, the lord's son, was one of the soldiers who carried Robb to a room where he could be treated. "First, I need to get the arrowhead out, so don't just yank on the shaft, else it might become separated from the flint," Jeyne announced. "Did you see any arrows with barbed tips being used?" she asked.

"No," Robb answered simply, relieved that the problem wasn't even worse.

Her fingers found where the arrowhead was lodged in Robb's flesh. Robb gritted his teeth. _Well, this is war_, Robb thought. _And I refuse to cry in front of my soldiers._ She inserted smooth metal tools into the wound, so the arrowhead would not cause even more damage as it was pulled out. Jeyne gladly presented Robb with the bloody metal triangle. Robb was wholly unsurprised to see her bring boiling wine to clean out the wound. She wrapped cloth around the part of Robb's leg that bore the cut.

"Wow, you're good," Robb complimented. If she had been born a commoner, she may have found work as some sort of healer, maybe a midwife. If she was a man born high or low she could have gone to Oldtown to study to become a maester.

Robb put some weight on the leg. It felt sore and weak, and he wasn't sure how much of that would fade with time.

An older woman showed up in the doorway. "Jeyne dear, it seems you have done well with the patient," she said.

"Yes, my lady mother, the Mother Above is merciful," Jeyne answered.

"She had nothing to do with it, your daughter did," Robb chimed in.

"You northmen," Sybell Spicer Westerling responded. "Well, I've mixed a potion that should help with the swelling. Drink some yourself to prove that it's not poison," she said to explain the vial she was carrying. "My son Raynald is the Westerling in The Crag, he did submit the castle, and I will respect that."

His father, Sybell's husband Gawen, was the house lord, but he had been captured at the Whispering Wood. That was the North's first clear victory in the current war, before Robb was crowned, before his army marched into the Westerlands. However, Robb had almost forgotten about Gawen Westerling in the joy of capturing enemy commander Jaime Lannister.

Robb found the potion's taste mild, and Jeyne agreed as she drank her portion. "The wound needs to be washed again. You may as well take a full bath, you probably need one anyway," Jeyne suggested.

"Months in the field will do that to a soldier even without injuries," Robb agreed. Jeyne called one of the Westerling servants to prepare the hot water. Meanwhile, she removed the bandage to find it mostly soaked with blood and the bleeding mostly stopped.

After Robb bathed and dressed, he received a wound that no medic of any sort could treat. The younger Jon Umber came running with a scroll. "Your Grace, dark wings bring dark words," Umber said simply and solemnly. "I believe you'll wish to be left alone with this." Robb read that Theon Greyjoy had captured Winterfell and then had the Stark brother Brandon and Rickon killed. Theon was acting for his own House, but this made him seem like a traitor after living at Winterfell for years and fighting alongside Robb in the earlier stages of the current war. _His br__others dead, his home in ruins, by someone who had been like a brother at Winterfell. _the tough young man began to cry.

Then he felt someone come in and put a hand on his shoulder. It was Jeyne. _She seemed more beautiful now_, Robb thought. "I also heard the news. My siblings all still live, but I can't bear the thought of losing Elenya, or Raynald or Rollam."

He stood up to put his hand on her shoulder, only to knock the strap of her gown off. Robb was surprised when she didn't rush to pull it back up. "Why don't you fix the other one?" she suggested smoothly. For some reason, Robb did, and the yellow fabric accented in white fell to the floor. She stepped out of the bottom of the dress to draw him closer for a kiss. The potion had left a sweet aftertaste that lingered in Robb's mouth even now; he smelled the same on Jeyne's breath.

They broke the sweet embrace only so he could lose his tunic and breeches. There was something not so small in his smallclothes and what looked like a nice firm pair of teats under hers. Neither person wished for their bodies to be constrained by the simple grey fabric any longer. Robb gazed in silent awe. His eyes and the eye at the tip of his manhood both focused between her legs, capped with a tuft of hair as brown as the luxurious strands atop her head. "You act like you haven't seen a naked woman before," Jeyne teased.

"Actually I haven't," Robb admitted. "Certainly not one I'm about to bed or one as pretty as you," he added more confidently.

"I figured someone as handsome as you would have wenched his way through half the North by now," Jeyne purred. "Bed me!" she said enthusiastically. "Make a woman out of me as I make a man out of you!" His body had already responded well enough, so he didn't need much prompting when Jeyne threw one of her legs up into his outstretched arms.

He slid her between the sheets of a bed he had expected to have to himself, and promptly followed. He climbed on top of her and pushed down into her, for he knew that much, whether through innate instinct or what he had gathered from listening to the rowdier boys around him._ No wonder they had found this so fascinating!_ he thought as his body surged in and out of hers.

Within a couple minutes, he felt his seed pump into her and his tall body collapse onto the pillow sideways to gaze into her eyes. "You're a maiden's fantasy, but now it's no fantasy and I'm no maiden," Jeyne said. She was right; her maiden's gift had been given to him and the sheets.

Apparently the new king had found his queen. It seemed like the honorable way to treat her. He had promised himself to a daughter of Lord Walder Frey, but that man almost deserved to be snubbed for extracting concessions out of doing his fealty to House Tully. However, Robb was exhausted from the day's exertion in both business and pleasure. He quickly fell asleep in the same bed on which he had deflowered Jeyne.

As Robb awoke, he looked over to see the fair young woman still with him, still asleep. Robb heard a series of heavy steps in the hallways outside the bedchamber. Lord Umber's son was not a small man, so that was probably the source of the noise. "Good morning, Your Grace! I gather that your leg is still working?"

"Yes," Robb answered.

"Apparently the thing between your legs is also still working," he japed.

"Don't jape like we're at a wedding!" Robb shouted back. "I wish I could marry you," he whispered to Jeyne.

"I understand that you can't," Jeyne replied solemnly.

"But I can find another good match for you," Robb said cheerfully. _Even though she's soiled, thanks to you._

"I hope so," she said, probably with similar thoughts running through her head.

"You deserve at least that much, though not a queen, you certainly should be treated like one."

With his brothers dead and his sisters Sansa and Arya imprisoned in Kings Landing, Robb didn't really have any heirs. Maybe he had just planted one in Jeyne last night. He couldn't marry her due to the political situation, but kings could legitimize bastards. It was particularly understandable if the bastard's father needed an heir. Robb had a living brother of sorts, his father's bastard Jon Snow, raised at Winterfell alongside Robb and his full siblings. However, Jon had joined the Night's Watch military order, the oath of which forbade members from holding lands or titles. So legitimizing Jon wouldn't provide Robb with a successor, but through Jon, Robb understood a bastard's fate as a well as a trueborn child could, so Robb would refuse to inflict that on his own children.

Mayhaps one of Frey's daughters would charm him the way Jeyne just had. It was possible that another match would present itself, to a House stronger than Frey, let alone Westerling. He was raised amongst the ice, but these dreams had filled him with fire.


	3. Daenerys II

**Guest review comments**

LadyUmba:

I love the idea of your story. As much as I love George R. R. Martin's story of Robb and Jeyne, your idea of Dany with Robb is so cool. Dany being strong and independent, Robb and her as king and queen of the iron throne - I really like that idea.

Me:

Thank you. I do what I can to respect GRRM's amazing female characters, Daenerys chief amongst them, and I liked developing Jeyne's character as a serious medic.

**A/N**

While working on this, Chapter 3 Daenerys II, I revised Chapter 1 Daenerys I, mainly expanding the news conversation with Jorah.

**Chapter**

The Iron Throne was still out of Daenerys' reach, but now it was closer to her grasp. The Lhazareen shepherds' territory was on the southwest of the Dothraki Sea, leaving only the Free Cities and the Narrow Sea between her and Westeros. She felt it would be unlikely to win further Dothraki to her cause and didn't want to wear down her forces. So Daenerys led the horde west, which would avoid contact with other Dothraki. Hostile _khalasari_ were always a concern for the Dothraki, but especially the Dothraki following her – other remnants of Drogo's forces would bear a grudge, and Dothraki society as a whole would be displeased with how she didn't join the other khal widows in Vaes Dothrak. That group, the dosh khaleen, ruled that place, the only city of the Dothraki. However, she was destined to rule a whole continent herself.

They needed ships, so it seemed obvious to travel to a coastal city. Following the coast of Essos would lead to Volantis, the southernmost of the Free Cities. However, Daenerys did not wish to land that far south in Westeros, the region of Dorne. Lys and Tyrosh were somewhat the same in that regard.

Braavos was too far a trek across Essos and would land her too far north in Westeros, the Vale of Arryn. It was rich and powerful; the poor nearby Lorath couldn't even offer that. Furthermore, that path was obstructed by Norvos and Qohor, two cities that were landlocked and thus would do her no good. Also, Qohor was notorious for defeating even a large Dothraki horde.

Pentos and Myr were in the right location, and Pentos was the home of Illyrio Mopatis, who has put these plans into motion. After a decade of Viserys' begging, someone had answered. "But remember, Your Grace," Jorah counseled. "Illyrio is loyal to Illyrio."

"That impulse seems straightforward enough," Daenerys answered. "He wants money and he shall have it. And food, gods that man eats a lot."

"How do you intend to cross the Rhoyne, my queen?" he continued, referring to the river that ran nearly the entire north-south distance of Essos on the way to Westeros.

"We take the pass in the plains south of the Forest of Qohor and north of the Selhoru," she said, naming a massive grove and one of the Rhoyne's southern tributaries. That river had massive marshes surrounding it, more territory to avoid. "We cross the river at the ruins of Ar Noy and again at the ruins of Ny Sar. That brings us to the Golden Fields and The Flatlands, an easy path to Westeros," she finished.

She was right in that last part - the trek did not bring much trouble. _Then again_, Daenerys thought,_ it was wise to not trouble twenty thousand Dothraki._ Many of those they passed paid tribute, to the conventional sight of a mighty khalasar or to the unknown sight of dragons. The Dothraki had no use for money, but Daenerys would need wealth amongst other things to secure her birthright. Viserys had instilled in her the importance of birthright, and his claim to the Iron Throne was now hers.

One of Daenerys' wedding gifts had been a beautiful filly with a silver coat. Much of the time, Irri had to ride it on Daenerys' behalf. Dothraki demanded to see their leader ahorse, but the newborn Rhaego was considered a reasonable excuse to take to the cart. Daenerys found it rather difficult to hold the reins and hold Rhaego to the breast at the same time. Amongst the Dothraki, there was no shame in the breast, especially when it was being used for its intended purpose, so how Daenerys traveled was a strictly practical decision. She had also found herself less and less able to ride while she was pregnant with him. She missed the saddle, since in true Dothraki fashion she had become especially close to her mount. Viserys had always told her she was a princess, but she hadn't felt like one until she had learned to ride the silver.

In calling for the khalasar to cross the river twice, Daenerys knew she had presented a challenge. However, a single crossing would have been too far to the south, making the route longer and exposing them to the haunted and diseased ruins of Chroyane as well as the pirates of Dagger Lake. Horses could drink river water, so the Rhoyne did not instill fear in the Dothraki the way the Narrow Sea would. However, those crossings were a necessary prelude for the final crossing to Westeros.

The khalasar reached the vicinity of the first ruin. One pirate ship had struck north from Dagger Lake, but Aggo planted an arrow in its mainsail and it quickly retreated. Daenerys thought he acted awfully quickly, but she recognized that he needed to take advantage of his bow's increased range. Dragonbone shot further than wood. A bow was a traditional gift to a Dothraki wife to be used by her husband, and Daenerys had passed hers along to Aggo after Drogo's death. The khaleesi had received a particularly good bow, and Aggo was an archer worthy of it. Similarly, Jhogo had received a whip and Rakharo had been given another one of the curved Dothraki swords known as arakhs.

The ruins had apparently provided enough material to bridge or dam the waters sufficiently to cross them. Daenerys and the silver were fourth across after the bloodriders. Despite repair efforts, a few riders were swept away as the structure started to crumble towards the end of the crossing.

The khalasar had encountered a band of slave traders on the march, men who found themselves dead, their material wealth confiscated and their slaves freed. Daenerys was blood of the dragon, and she burned even hotter with righteousness as some chose to follow her and some didn't.

"Yet you feel the people of Westeros must follow you," Jorah pointed out.

"As a monarch not a master," Daenerys replied tersely. "No one should be under the lash, but all men must serve somebody, however high or low in society, however refined their lifestyle. I of course intend to be a leader worth following."

"That you are, and this khalasar is proof enough of that," Jorah replied confidently. "I do not wish to meet the fate of those other slavers," Jorah admitted much more nervously.

"And I do not wish to condemn you to such a fate. It is normal in Westeros that joining the Night's Watch takes a man off the chopping block, is it not?" Daenerys pronounced.

"It is known," Jorah agreed. "I took a wife, and what good do it do me?" he said, referring to how he had eschewed that limitation of the Watch. "Everything I did was to support the luxury lifestyle she was accustomed to, I even took her with me when I went on the run, and she still left me. That was my second. The first one died after several years with no children. Yeah, I'm done taking wives. Taking the black it is. My lord father is lord commander of the black brothers now. Took the black to give me Bear Island and I fuck it up. He'll be one disappointed man, but they say that on the wall all past crimes are forgiven."

Daenerys took in the rant and offered "I am sure you'll serve them as faithfully as you have served and will serve me."

When they finally approached the walls of Pentos, envoys rode out to meet them. "The horselords come, we give them gifts, the horselords go," an official said of the usual tribute.

"We do not seek trinkets this time, but rather ships," Daenerys answered with a sharp edge.

"Let them in," a fat man ordered.

"As you wish, Magister Illyrio," the official answered.

Many trading ships from Illyrio and some others would serve as transports. Some sellsails would screen the fleet, mercenaries at sea as Jorah and so many others were on land. Whip, arakh and longsword wouldn't do much good aboard a ship, but those men stood ready in case their ships were boarded. Aggo would lead the archers in ensuring enemy sailors never got close in the first place. It was paid by Illyrio's money, the tribute Daenerys had received, and the promise of more once the wealth of Westeros was under her control.

The Targaryen kings and the Usurper after them had a small council of their highest advisors. Daenerys would continue the tradition, and with that in mind, she played another card with Illyrio. "There's an appointment as Master of Coin in it for you." It made sense to put the successful merchant in change of the kingdom's finances. Other small council positions were reserved for Westerosi allies or perhaps compliant current occupants. Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard to become Queensguard, was an old honorable knight who ought to see the justice in her cause. The Grand Maester was a neutral servant, as were all maesters, at least in theory. Stannis had been in charge of the royal navy, and he could return to his spot on the council if he was compliant. However, the master of whisperers was by necessity a devious sort, and he would have to go. A leader's role was to bring justice, so the master of laws was of paramount importance. She could certainly find a suitable Hand of the Queen.

The Narrow Sea was not so narrow that she could see across it. However, the dream of reasserting the Targaryen dynasty was now metaphorically in sight.


	4. Stannis I

**A/N**

I revised Chapter 3 Daenerys II to expand the description of the small council.

**Chapter**

Stannis Baratheon knew Eddard Stark and his predecessor Jon Arryn had died trying to discover and reveal a dark secret. 'King' Joffrey was supposedly King Robert's first trueborn son and claimed the throne accordingly, but he was truly sired by the queen's brother. His sister Myrcella and brother Tommen were born of the same vile incest. They bore the name Baratheon, but they definitely weren't of that house. They weren't even Lannisters – they deserved to be called 'Waters', the name for bastards born in the Crownlands. Stannis knew the Iron Throne was rightfully his as Robert's oldest brother. Eddard had passed Stannis the information shortly before Joffrey had Lord Stark executed for telling that inconvenient truth. Stannis had the news spread far and wide as part of asserting his right to the crown.

Much of the Lannister household was likely aware that Jaime and Cersei were far too close even for twin siblings. Stannis knew many would be skeptical of the scandal, and Joffrey loyalists had responded with rumormongering against Stannis. Those lies were so disgusting and ridiculous that Stannis did not care to dwell on them. However, the average Lannister loyalists at least thought they were supporting their rightful king. Renly Baratheon's men, not to mention Robb Stark's, definitely had no such excuse. Stannis regretted having his brother Renly killed, but treason was treason. Besides, he had doubted his younger brother's ability to rule – Renly's charm may have helped him gain power, but Stannis' firm sense of justice would be necessary to hold onto it.

Would that those traits were fused in the same man or the brothers had seen fit to work together. _Yet Renly insisted on being crowned_, Stannis reminded himself. _Robert drove us apart by giving him Storm's End, rich lands that were the ancestral seat of House Baratheon. I got stuck with Drag__onstone, the poor traditional seat of House Targaryen_, Stannis' thoughts continued. Mayhaps their eldest brother's decision plus the influence of Loras Tyrell had helped to tragically inflate Renly's sense of self-importance.

Loras Tyrell was squire turned sworn knight turned Kingsguard Lord Commander for Renly. The two had been lovers all along. Stannis was well aware of his younger brother's predilections in the bedchamber. Stannis barely bedded his wife, Queen Selyse Florent. Well, Robert had more than made up for his brothers on that account.

Stannis had a duty to produce heirs and he had, sweet Shireen. However, even on the rare occasions when he bedded Selyse, no more were forthcoming. Shireen would herself need an heir. The maesters knew she was frail and wondered if she was fertile, lingering effects of the grayscale that disfigured her earlier in life.

Well, a king could create heirs with his pen as well as his penis. Needing an heir was a particularly acceptable reason to legitimize a bastard. Robert certainly left many to choose from if the time came. However, most were unknown, and not trained since birth for the responsibilities of the nobility.

Stannis knew Robert's son Edric Storm, but the boy's existence was a blight on Stannis' honor, and Stannis was not a man to suffer such things lightly. Robert and Selsye's cousin Delena Florent had conceived Edric the night of Stannis and Selyse's wedding, in the bed intended for the newlyweds. Robert's excuse was that he was so drunk he hadn't known what bedchamber he had entered, which Stannis admittedly found rather believable.

Stannis felt the circumstances were a bad omen for his marriage. In that way the brothers were somewhat alike – Robert's marriage also seemed doomed from the start. When Robert had Cersei for the first time, he accidentally addressed her as Lyanna. Robert had been betrothed to her, Eddard's sister. Her beauty had also drawn the eye of Prince Rhaegar, who abducted the lass, one of the sparks setting off Robert's Rebellion. So it was personal when Robert slew Rhaegar in single combat. Lyanna died during the war, mayhaps from birthing Rhaegar's child. Robert couldn't manage to forget his friend's sister. _No wonder Cersei would rather bear her brother's children instead of his brot__her's_, Stannis thought.

Renly had referred to his protectors as the Rainbow Guard, typical of his overly stylish manner. Stannis had not created a counterpart; the White Guard was his by right along with the rest of the Iron Throne's power. Its Lord Commander was Ser Barristan Selmy, an honorable man who ought to see the justice in Stannis' cause. Jaime Lannister would have to go, trade a white cloak for a black one mayhaps. Ser Jaime had been a Kingslayer once; who's to say he would not do so again? Fortunately, a current traitor had taken care of the past traitor, as Robb captured Jaime in one of the Stark battles against the Lannisters.

Red was the only color for Stannis now. He had recently been approached by Melisandre, a priestess of the fiery god R'hllor. Selyse and most of the rest of Dragonstone took up Melisandre's faith. Rainbows and other sevens, sigils of the Andal gods, were blasphemy now. As the Andals destroyed the sacred forests of the First Men, so did the followers of R'hllor destroy the sigils of The Seven. The First Men had picked up the Old Gods and the Andals had brought the New Gods, Melisandre proselytized for a yet newer god. The central tenet of her faith was the struggle between light and the forces of darkness. The red priestess said Stannis now played a fundamental role in that eternal war. She proclaimed him Azor Ahai reborn, a legendary hero destined to win the final battle, and Stannis gladly took up that duty.

To speak of red, Robar Royce had worn the red cloak for Renly. Him and Emmon Cuy the yellow had been slain by a grieving Loras looking for someone to blame. Brienne Tarth the blue had nearly met a similar fate, but she escaped. This story came from Guyard Morrigen the green, Parmen Crane the purple and Bryce Caron the orange, three of the many men from Renly's forces that now supported Stannis. The Tyrells had played a key part in crowning Renly, including making Loras' sister Margaery a sham wife for the so-called king. Now House Tyrell threw their lot in with Joffrey against Stannis. So in a way, Loras knew who had been responsible for his lover's death.

Melisandre knew powerful magic. One spell had involved bedding Stannis to produce the creature that had assassinated Renly. Even after Renly's death, Storm's End still hadn't surrendered, thanks to the castle's stubborn commander. In order to cut the siege short, Melisandre and Stannis had recast the spell used to kill Renly.

During Robert's Rebellion, Stannis had held Storm's End against a Tyrell siege, and Davos the smuggler relieved the starving garrison with a shipment of onions. The man was knighted as Davos Seaworth and was to this day one of Stannis' staunchest allies. Now, Davos snuck Melisandre into Storm's End to take the castle. Ironically, Davos was no follower of R'hllor, but he had still done his king's bidding.

Stannis could trust Davos as the elite royal assistant titled Hand of the King; however, Davos was not an educated man, and Stannis found it politically prudent to give the title to his wife's uncle Alester. Besides, ship captains as skilled as Davos were needed in the royal fleet. Even facing the combined might of Houses Lannister and Tyrell, Renly's forces gave Stannis enough strength to strike at King's Landing, and strike he would.

The messengers that carried Stannis' news across the Narrow Sea brought back their own word. Daenerys Targaryen had hatched three dragons. Many Targaryens had tried and failed in a multitude of ways to bring back the dragons in the hundred and fifty years since the creatures had died out. With them, thousands of Dothraki warriors and the usual assortment of mercenaries, Daenerys was poised to claim the throne as Aerys II's daughter. However, she had no rights as the second cousin of Robert I. The Iron Throne belonged to the Baratheons now.


	5. Robb II

"Your Grace, the march south brings us closer to Casterly Rock, and there is no way in the seven hells we can lay siege to it," Ryman Frey pointed out. Robb knew that 'The Rock', the main castle of the Westerlands, was north of the region's main city Lannisport. As such, the Northern army couldn't really sack Lannisport and retreat either.

"There's a raven for him," Ryman's son Walder interrupted. One of many Walder Frey descendants named after the man, this one was called Black Walder due to his disagreeable personality. Robb thought the large amount of Brandons in Stark history was confusing enough, his dead brother the latest of many. Ryman's son Walder and Jon's son Jon had scaled the walls while Robb stormed the main gate. _You stormed Jeyne's main gate too_, Robb heard Jon jape in his head.

"It's a letter from his mommy," Black Walder taunted. It bore the seal of Robb's lady mother Catelyn Stark, there was no doubt about it, yet it was a letter to Robb as her king rather than Robb as her son. She had gone to the east to treat with King Renly Baratheon. With Queen Cersei's children not being fathered by the late King Robert, Renly's older brother Stannis was the rightful king. However, if such laws were a concern, Robb himself wouldn't have been crowned.

Renly commanded a larger army than Stannis. Stannis would insist on all seven kingdoms, Renly mayhaps not. All Robb and his bannermen wanted was independence for the North, not the crown for all of Westeros. Robb wasn't sure if he had been crowned King of the Riverlands or the Riverlands had been annexed to the Kingdom of the North; such legalities were a matter for the maesters. The point was that he controlled that territory, and would be willing to give up dominion over it as part of the peace. Renly was like to be interested, Robb hoped.

However, the actual content of the letter dashed those hopes. _Renly died under mysterious circumstances. Most of Renly's forces now support Stannis.__ House Tyrell, including Renly's widow Margaery, is now allied with the Iron Throne. I travel back to Riverrun with a guard falsely accused of involvement in Renly's death._ Riverrun was the seat of House Tully, his mother's birth family, invaluable allies in this war. Robb passed the letter around and announced "We shall travel back to Riverrun as well."

Catelyn's wasn't the only raven. "My lord father captured several gold mines," Jon said of another Northern campaign in the West. _Mayhap__s that gold shall__ become dragon coins of King Robb I, not bad_, Robb thought.

"You can't eat gold!" Black Walder pointed out, dismissing a major strength of the Westerlands.

"Well, Lady Mormont captured a bunch of livestock," Jon pointed out. All armies had to live off the land to an extent, so Robb recognized this was an important victory as well. However, plunder wasn't Robb's main strategic objective. He wanted to draw House Lannister's strength away from King's Landing and pin them down in their home territory. However, that hadn't been working. Tywin hadn't taken the bait, so Robb would strike elsewhere.

Robb only intended to rule the North, but there was one other crown he did want – the Driftwood Crown of the Iron Islands. He wanted to personally rip it off of Balon Greyjoy's head, then remove that head from its neck. Theon's head would not be far behind. This was the second time Balon had crowned himself. A few years into King Robert's reign, he thought the new king weak. Robb's father was chief amongst the generals that tragically proved Balon wrong. Theon had been taken to Winterfell as a warning, and the Greyjoys hadn't heeded it. Balon had just proved that he hadn't deserved a second chance; Robb wondered why he had been given one. His first treason was vile enough, the false repentance even more so.

His children and captains sacked the North! A king's first duty was to defend the people of his realm. Robb thought of how best to accomplish that as the primary subject of imminent war council meetings.

Asha had committed no special crimes against House Stark or houses sworn to it. She was at worst too good a soldier on the enemy's side. Her side could change. Mayhaps the two of them would even see fit for her to wear a crown – Asha Greyjoy Stark, Queen of the North, Rivers and Isles? _It seemed fitting to reverse those titles_, Robb thought. At the time of Aegon the Conqueror, the ironborn had controlled the Riverlands, the Kingdom of Isles and Rivers. House Tully had gained control over the region by leading the river lords in supporting Aegon The Conqueror.

Would Margaery be wed to the Tyrells' new king? Gods, no woman deserves that vile inbred bastard as a husband. Sansa had seen the truth of Joffrey too late. What might it take to bring the Tyrells over to his side besides taking Margaery's hand? Robb considered more as-yet-fictional titles, in this case 'Margaery Tyrell Stark, Queen of the North, Rivers and Reach'.

Robb didn't like thinking of the brides and even the grooms as pawns. To be like his father included wanting such a happy marriage. _Would that my love was of a greater house_, Robb mused. Yet he still recognized the political realities; had he not, Jeyne would be queen.

Robb was offered his pick of Walder Frey's descendants, so he could certainly have the pretty wife he wanted. However, he seemed to recognize that wasn't everything. Queen Cersei was beautiful, but her marriage to King Robert must have been loveless if she preferred incest. Jeyne was pretty but not that pretty, and Robb loved her dearly.

Robb certainly didn't need to shore up the loyalty of the north; the devotion of the bannermen was the legacy of many honorable Stark lords before him, a legacy Robb dreamed of building on. Dacey Mormont, heiress to her House, was graceful as well as deadly, but if they were a match, they would have seen it by now. She was doing quite well where she was, as one of Robb's elite swords.

Eddard's brother Brandon and their father Rickard had been killed in the Mad King's insanity, which must have made the rebellion deeply personal even for so calm a man as Eddard. Catelyn had been betrothed to Eddard's older brother Brandon and loved him, and the plans for a Stark-Tully alliance were maintained with Eddard. It had been arranged and worked out beautifully; Robb didn't want to take that chance. He knew he was one of the most available men in Westeros and could bide his time.

Now they had a march to Riverrun to carry out, joined by the new Stark loyalists of House Westerling. The host began to ride to the northeast. Ser Brynden Tully, the brother of Robb's grandfather, was the captain of Robb's scouts. He had done a masterful job aiding their element of surprise and taking it away from Lannister hosts. His forces had recently ambushed a party from the Golden Tooth, gate to the Westerlands, held by House Lefford. Brynden came back to Robb to report casualties. "Mayhaps Jeyne can walk amongst the wounded," Robb suggested.

"If His Grace has left her still able to walk!" _Jon Umber again._ True, Robb had bedded Jeyne several times since that battle. He usually fell asleep and woke up to the sweet wetness between her thighs. Wheelhouses had their place as opposed to riding on horseback. _I've got plenty of a stallion with me back here_, Jeyne had japed.

Brynden's action had protected the Stark foragers. Robb heard the mooing of Maege's herd and saw the glint of Lord Umber's gold. Lord Umber saw his son carrying a captured burning-tree banner from House Marbrand of Ashemark. "Seems you've been busy," said father to son.

"Not compared to the king," the son replied while casually pointing towards Jeyne.

Lord Umber understood quickly. "Ah, Your Grace, you've finally had a woman, good for you!" he said boisterously. He shook his young king's hand, and Robb noticed it was the one with two fingers missing. Robb had sicced Grey Wind on Lord Umber for defying him. With that atom of firmness, Robb had earned Lord Umber's respect and later a crown. The crown itself was forged by the Riverrun smith, a bronze circle with nine iron spikes, a replica of the old northern crown long since lost to time. Maege Mormont's men feasted the reunited army on fresh beef while the force rested before the final push back to Riverrun.

The Golden Tooth blocked a mountain pass into the Westerlands. However, Robb's direwolf Grey Wind had found a route around it. The direwolf was the sigil of House Stark; it seemed poetic that direwolf pups had come to Robb and the other Stark children. Robb's host exited the Westerlands the same way it had entered them.

The triangular shape of Riverrun became visible soon enough. Catelyn herself was amongst the first to ride out to meet them. "My son, my king, congratulations on the successful campaign. Welcome home."

Robb wanted to see his lady mother alone. He followed her down the halls to see a knight at her personal chambers – tall, but not quite so towering as the Umber men, and armored fully in blue. "Ser?" he asked of the guard.

"It's just Brienne," she answered. The name and the relatively high voice seemed to be two of the few feminine things about her. _Gods, she makes Jeyne look like Jonquil by comparison_, Robb thought. Sansa loved the stories and songs of the legendary maiden Jonquil. Yet Robb trusted his mother's choice of sword wielder, the relevant issue here.

Inside the chambers, Robb said "This is the only home we have left after Theon's treason," Robb answered.

"And you the only son I have left," Catelyn added with tears in her eyes. "Now who is Lady Not A Frey I saw with you?" she inquired. "Have I a new daughter?" she said, referring to the traditional blessing of a son's wife. She forced out the words.

"Jeyne Westerling. Would that I could make her my queen, but I know I cannot." Robb saw Catelyn's demeanor improve instantly, as if someone had relieved her of a heavy weight. "She tended my battle wounds, quite ably I must say, and we fell in love as I suffered a far more grievous wound." His mother would know what he meant, for she would likely have received the news of Winterfell around the same time.

"I am glad you have found love and not let yourself be destroyed," Catelyn acknowledged.

The Mormont plunder feasted the Riverrun garrison as well as the Northern army this time. A messenger from the kitchens had Brienne interrupt Robb and Catelyn to call them all to table. Robb had the seat of honor in the Great Hall, partially because a king outranked a lord, partially because Hoster Tully was still confined to sickbed anyway. The lady queen's seat was still empty, Robb hoped not for long. Jeyne supped with the other Westerlings to keep up appearances.

Vyman, the old maester at Riverrun, came to the high seat with an important message. It bore Stannis' seal. _Lord Stark, I am not your threat from the east. There is another force yet further to the east that th__reatens us both. The dragons are reborn, and the dragon queen is poised to bring them and a host across the Narrow Sea. Dragons can't be tamed, as you should know. I wish for a truce._ "We have peace with Stannis and will take the war to King's Landing while we have the chance," Robb told his advisers. He had better ideas for the dragon queen.


	6. Stannis II

"The Mad King's daughter has a fleet, Your Grace," the maester told Stannis. "It sails the Narrow Sea as we speak."

"That is a problem that Stannis Baratheon knows how to deal with," the king answered. He was the second oldest of the four claimants, after Balon but before Robb and Joffrey. He was the only one with a right to the Iron Throne, so age didn't matter, and he also felt the mature adult compared favorably to either of the two boys anyway. "Ready our fleet. We must needs defeat theirs before it lands troops," he announced generally. "Lord Seaworth, I wish to raise my flag in _Black Betha_," he added, naming Davos' vessel. This was an exception from the usual _Fury_.

Davos saved him four-and-ten years ago, and had been richly rewarded, including the very title and name Lord Seaworth. Davos had continued to serve loyally since then as a sailor and counselor. Now Stannis' flagship would be the same one that saved him all those years ago. Davos' third son Matthos was one of his father's officers. The first son, Dale, captained _Wraith_, and second, Allard, _Lady Marya_. The fourth, Maric, was an officer on _Fury_. Devan, King Stannis' squire, was next. The sons flanked the father as the fleet left the harbor.

Sons named after Stannis and Stannis' own father Steffon were too young for war. _Seven strong sons, no wonder your faith in the Seven is so strong_, men sometimes told Davos. They were back at the family keep with their mother – Davos had been quite pleased when Allard named his ship after the woman. _Just a carpenter's daughter and her teats sag, yet the sweetest woman in the world, especially when she smiles_, Davos thought.

Within but a couple days, the fleets came in sight of each other. Rowers waited for the order to ramming speed. The _Fury_ carried dozens of scorpions, and Stannis saw the crew loading bolts. He saw the enemy decks full of archers. _A reasonable strategy to combine land and naval power._ A Targaryen ship raised a flag – not one of surrender, but one of truce. It was not what Stannis wanted to see, but the man of honor in him had to honor it. Well, at least they didn't open fire yet either.

Stannis hoped that, R'hllor will it, Daenerys was Aegon with teats instead of Aerys. There were great Targaryens, whom Stannis at least respected even when he opposed them, but there were as many mad ones. Jaehaerys II had once said _Madness and greatness were two sides of the same coin and every time a new Targaryen was born, the gods would t__oss the coin in the air and the world would hold its breath to see how it would land_. However, Stannis had not seen Daenerys' coin fall, and Melisandre had taught him that there was only one god to watch.

_Black Betha_ answered with a signal inviting the meeting to take place aboard the Seaworth ship. A boat set forth from her flagship. As its passengers were let aboard _Black Betha_, Stannis got a closer look at them. Her guards and servant were all Dothraki savages. The girl herself was rather pretty - even Stannis could see that, especially by contrast – his Shireen was a sweet girl, but looks were not amongst her virtues. Well, he'd have no trouble marrying off a princess and future queen.

R'hllor knows what Robert would be thinking about her and the servant. Renly might have entertained similar thoughts about the guards, or maybe not - for all his faults, he was faithful to his Knight Of Flowers, Stannis observed to himself.

"Lady Daenerys," Stannis announced stiffly. "Welcome to the flagship of Stannis Baratheon, First Of His Name, King Of Westeros." She heard the servant saying harsh words to the bodyguards; she must be some sort of translator and that must be the savage language of the Dothraki.

"Lord Stannis, that's only because your brother stole my father's crown and then proceeded to impregnate every woman in Westeros except his wife," she responded. The jape about Robert's whoring and wenching tempered her opening statement, though Stannis still never laughed.

"Our eleven-greats grandsire built the Iron Throne by conquest and my brother took it thusly," Stannis responded.

"And so your other brother aims to do," Daenerys parried.

"Lord Renly is dead," Stannis announced.

"Good. One less king to fight when we're through with you. Care to die in fire or blood?" Daenerys raged.

"Spoken like a true Targaryen," Stannis admitted. "but mine is the _Fury_," he said, pointing towards the huge warship and parrying her variation of the Targaryen words with a twist of the Baratheon motto. The founder of his house was Aegon's bastard half-brother Orys Baratheon, who had defeated Argillac Durrendon during The Conquest, adopting his motto and marrying his daughter.

"Mine are the dragons," Daenerys answered as the creatures crawled over her arms and shoulders. "Dracarys". All three let out puffs of flame and smoke into the air.

"She who can hatch dragons must be blessed by the Heart of Fire," Melisandre announced, giving an alternate name for R'hllor. "She would be an invaluable ally against the Great Other," the red priestess added. Melisandre had prophesied that Stannis was the reincarnation of legendary hero Azor Ahai who would defeat the cold and dark eternal enemy of R'hllor. R'hllor had sent her Stannis - mayhaps he had sent both of them Daenerys.

Davos guessed what Stannis was thinking and whispered in his king's ear. "Your Grace, with all due respect, you mean for us to kneel to lizards? I say defeat her before they're full grown."

"She has both law and force behind her, same as I do. We could give battle, but it is no sure thing – and I am sure that you would prefer for you and your sons to remain alive," Stannis countered.

"Aye, she hired some of the sellsails I would have preferred to hire for our cause," Davos admitted dejectedly.

"So you're returning to Westeros. I had heard that the slaver Jorah Mormont was also doing so," Stannis snapped.

"He is on one of my ships, but out of respect for your righteousness, I did not want to present him to you," Daenerys explained.

"A wise decision, especially so for a woman of four-and-ten," Stannis admitted.

"He has offered me good counsel and loyal guard service, but I understand he cannot escape his crimes," Daenerys stated.

"His Grace is quite just – I would know," Davos offered.

"Ser Jorah understands that he is to join the Night's Watch after we defeat our mutual enemies," Daenerys said confidently.

Stannis thought it was his duty and right to be king, rather than something he wanted, unlike his brothers. Standing before him was someone worthy of relieving him of that responsibility. This could even help him focus on his greater duty as Azor Ahai.

He strode back across the deck and said "Your Grace, your claim is as good as mine, and we have greater enemies than each other, so I offer terms".

"Offer them," Daenerys answered tersely.

"I maintain my seat on the small council…"

"As I had intended if you proved this reasonable," Daenerys agreed.

"My past actions and those of men loyal to me are to be acknowledged as non-treasonous," Stannis demanded. He saw her hesitate at the pardon, yet she'd have to be a fool to not grant it. After all, he had absorbed most of Renly's army in this manner.

"So let it be done."

"Whoever sits the Iron Throne, Storm's End is mine by right."

"It shall remain as such."

Satisfied, Stannis laid took a knee. "Daenerys Targaryen, First Of Your Name, I shall aid you in asserting your dominion as Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." _It seemed best to fill her head with the titles._

"You shall. Rise, Lord Stannis."

Now that Stannis referred to Daenerys as his queen instead of Selsye, some men japed that Daenerys was his third queen, the second being Melisandre. If they dared do so in Stannis' hearing, such men were reminded that Stannis was not a man for frivolous humors. "My queen, we were already going to march on King's Landing, and our army supporting yours would make victory even more certain."


	7. Daenerys III

"Iffi!" Daenerys shouted, the Dothraki word for victory. Jhiqui, Rakharo and Jhogo were already aware of the monumental accomplishment, but Aggo was the first aboard _Valyrian_ to hear of it. Her archer bloodrider had stood ready to command that part of her forces if today had come to war. However, the arrows were un-nocked and re-quivered as soon as Daenerys returned to her fleet. Daenerys had presented Stannis with a Targaryen banner. It was displayed from a mast of _Black Betha_. Stannis' arms were next to hers - the Baratheon stag in a flaming heart

Lord Davos Seaworth was captain of that particular vessel, so Seaworth arms flew next to Targaryen and Baratheon. The blazon was a light grey onion on a dark grey field. House Seaworth usually put the onion on a black sail. However, a ship on a ship seemed ridiculous, so when used as a naval jack, the onion was put directly on the field.

Daenerys knew the story of the Seaworth sigil, and did not care for it. Stannis rebelled with his lord brother instead of serving his king, her father, and his stubbornness in holding Storm's End had tied down the loyalist forces of Mace Tyrell and his bannermen for the better part of a year. They had nearly starved Stannis out when Davos, then a smallfolk smuggler, supplied the garrison with a cargo of food known for its onions.

War was a strange beast; if Daenerys had stuck too close to the circumstances of her father's war, she may not have been able to win her own. Now Baratheon allied with Targaryen against Tyrell. Davos had been knighted for allowing Stannis to hold out long enough for Eddard Stark to break the siege. And yet Daenerys was seriously considering marrying that traitor's son, grandson of fellow traitor Hoster Tully. At least Tywin Lannister was known to be an enemy of House Targaryen this time. He brought his host to King's Landing supposedly to defend Aerys II. He sacked the city and had Rhaegar's wife and children murdered. His son killed the king and his daughter married the Usurper. Daenerys would enjoy seeing Tywin's head on a spike, yes, she would. Rhaegar's wife had been Elia of House Martell, so Dorne would also be relieved to see the Lion of Lannister sent to the seven hells.

Aggo turned 'iffi' into a chant that spread through many of the riders on deck. Daenerys' greatest victory to date was bloodless. _And my wedding brought two-and-ten deaths_, she thought to herself. _My first wedding, _she corrected herself, _for gods know a second wi__ll be one of my future victories._ Some of Daenerys' khalasar were restless at the lack of battle, but Daenerys promised plenty of opportunities to draw blood once they landed in Westeros.

When Jorah spoke to Daenerys alone, he generally used the Common Tongue of Westeros. That generally wasn't for privacy, as translators and some other Westerosi were usually about. His choice of language was simply a nod to familiarity. Usually he addressed her as _Khaleesi_, translating as 'queen' but meaning so much more, but the Westerosi title seemed appropriate with a major victory before she even landed. "Your Grace, you and Lord Stannis both proved wise. Now, with one of the seven kingdoms in your grasp, the other six should soon follow."

Stannis would expect a good match for his Shireen. Daenerys wondered why that was not broached aboard the deck of _Black Betha_. "I believe not mentioning Lady Shireen was a deliberate test of you being sensible enough to think of her," Jorah suggested. "Lord Stannis would be pleased to hear that you have passed that test."

The girl being not quite ten, they had a few years to decide. A son of Daenerys would make Shireen a princess and potential future queen once again. It was common for younger women to be married off to older men, as Daenerys would know, but the opposite was not entirely unheard of.

Daenerys recognized that Targaryen incest was both a strength and weakness of the house; she read that her grandsire Jaehaerys II had compared it to flipping a coin. She did not want the practice to continue in so strong a form. Her children and Stannis' would be only third-degree cousins, but even first-degree would have been an improvement by Targaryen standards.

When Aegon I died, the Faith Of The Seven rebelled against the dynasty born of incest. Aegon and Rhaenys' son Aenys I was too soft in confronting the rebels, Aegon and Visenya's son Maegor too barbaric. Daenerys did not want to emulate either. Aenys' son Jaehaerys I brought decades of peace, something she certainly wanted to do with her time on the Iron Throne. Daenerys imagined what she could accomplish sitting the throne herself instead of working through the man who did.

Alysanne, the sister-wife of Jaehaerys I, had been one of the greatest Targaryen queens. She had convinced Jaehaerys to abolish some of the worst laws and customs that worked against women. She had also been a friend of the Night's Watch, as House Stark had always been. Emulating that aspect of the Good Queen could certainly help her win the favor of the North. Besides, Daenerys heard Stannis' priestess talk about fighting a Great Other. She knew the purpose of the Night's Watch was to fight Others. Jorah was not a particularly studious man, but he was no imbecile either, and he had taken to researching his likely future home, expanding his library as they marshaled their forces in Pentos. The Others seemed like creatures from scary stories alongside grumpkins and snarks, at best gone for thousands of years, but the dragons had come back after being gone less than two centuries.

Irri placed Rhaego back in Daenerys' arms and then began looking at Rakharo's arms. Jhiqui joined her in the latter pastime. He was a man grown, though having passed six-and-ten only recently. Daenerys' handmaidens were of an age with her, nearly women grown. Although Rakharo's duty as bloodrider came first, Daenerys' found her handmaidens' gaze quite understandable.

"Did I just meet your goodfather today?" Daenerys cooed to her son. His skin tone was darker than his mother but much lighter than his father. He had his mother's purple eyes and white hair from the blood of old Valyria. Her boy seemed strong at only a few weeks – imagine how he'd grow, how well he could fill his prophesied role as khal of khals.

The newly combined fleet sailed towards Dragonstone to unite with Stannis' troop transports and rearguard, to assault King's Landing as soon as the winds allowed. Daenerys found it passing odd that the Vale had apparently stayed out of the war, especially since Lord Arryn was Robb's first cousin. However, those family ties should keep them from coming to the Lannisters' aid. Daenerys judged that there wasn't enough time to coordinate with Robb's forces and she commanded the strength to defeat the Lannisters and Tyrells anyway. An alliance of Rock and Reach would fall to House Targaryen, as had happened nearly three centuries prior.

This was the two hundred and ninety eighth year after Aegon's Landing. Daenerys became queen of her legendary ancestor's domain when Viserys III died on day six-and-fifty of that year. However, on this day, ten-and-hundred, that right became a reality.


	8. Robb III

**A/N**

Robb Stark Week on tumblr (robbstarkweek tumblr com, tumblr com tagged robb+stark+week) inspired me to hurry up and return to my Robb fics.

**Chapter**

"Your Grace, this is now the war of three kings and one queen," Lord Umber told Robb. "Stannis has sent out a new proclamation now that he has bent the knee to Daenerys," he explained. "Maester Vyman suggested I bring the raven's scroll before the war council," Umber added while passing Robb the piece of paper to smooth out.

"Gods, couldn't they have fought amongst themselves?" Robb muttered. "Some of you here in this council say I've had beginner's luck at war, yet even I can see that Her Grace has more than enough strength to attack King's Landing, and soon."

"Agreed in both regards, Your Grace," Umber said.

"I think we should join them," Robb suggested. "Ideally, it shows that we're allies. If not, defections from Lannister and Tyrell forces would be our best chance to stand against Daenerys and Stannis. Mayhaps those two sides would wear down each other and we could defeat them both.

"To King's Landing!" Umber agreed. "To King's Landing," Rickard Karstark growled. His firstborn son Harrion had been captured at the Green Fork, and his other sons Torrhen and Eddard had been killed at the Whispering Wood. Rickard was thirsty for revenge. Several other Stark bannermen joined in the call. Catelyn Tully said it calmly, cautioning against bloodlust. Roose Bolton also did not yell the three words, but for other reasons – he was cold, calculating and cruel. Robb and some of the other younger men had mocked his quirks and his reserved personality, but this was no man to jape with. At any rate, he was a superb commander of the bulk of the Northern infantry. Robb's uncle Edmure Tully would command the bulk of the mounted knights.

The march would be by land. No river flowed all the way from Riverrun to King's Landing. Following the Trident to the sea at Saltpans and then sailing to King's Landing would have put them right into Stannis' territory. The Blackwater Rush flowed from the south of the Riverlands into King's Landing, but its course was treacherous. Besides, the North had been devoid of strength at sea for thousands of years. King Brandon, the Shipwright, had died during a voyage, and his heir burned the fleet in grief, becoming known as Brandon the Burner. To rebuild was one of Robb's dreams, likely with the help of a seafaring ally.

To march east and attack King's Landing from the north would present similar exposure to Stannis' forces. Harrenhal castle, on the north shores of the Gods Eye lake, stood to the east. The lake and the castle's Lannister garrison. Acorn Hall, to the south, would clearly be friendly to their presence. Pinkmaiden and Stoney Sept, further to the south, had been ravaged by the war, but held loyal to the Starks and Tullys still, and would welcome the presence of a march, if only to clear out the ravagers and ameliorate some of the damage.

Notorious Lannister enforcer Gregor "The Mountain" Clegane had perpetrated outrages in the region, starting or at least escalating the current war. Eddard Stark, in King's Landing to serve his old friend Robert as Hand, had sent forth a force under Beric Dondarrion against Clegane. This was likely one of the things the Lannisters had Eddard killed for. Eddard had attempted to see Clegane brought to justice; Robb would ensure it in his father's place. However, it would be difficult to restrain the eight foot tall and thirty stone heavy monster for execution. Robb may need help for that, which the hardly small Umber men seemed well suited for, but Robb would of course swing the sword himself, performing his father's task in his father's way. Beric had been ambushed by Clegane and now led men called the Brotherhood Without Banners in striking back from the shadows. They were heroes to the local smallfolk, and full army serving the same righteous cause should be even more welcome.

Stoney Sept was near a confluence of the Blackwater's tributaries; the Northern army would cross the river near there and march along the other bank of the Blackwater to attack King's Landing from the south. It was also a historic place. The Battle Of The Bells there had been one of Robert's key victories in his rebellion against Aerys II. It was so named because the town's bells had been rung to warn civilians as royalists and rebels fought in the streets.

Robb was approached by another Umber after the main council meeting. "Your Grace?" the junior Jon Umber asked.

"Yes?" Robb answered.

"I know I jape like a fool about Lady Westerling, but I bring serious counsel," the young Umber man exampled.

"Then I shall hear it," Robb said crisply.

"You are our man, our king. Yet we all know that right now you are a boy wet with love. We can forgive you that, especially since you've managed to avoid thinking with your cock like so many men before you. Continue to control your thoughts, I'd say."

"I shall," Robb agreed.

Lord Hoster Tully was still bedridden but clinging to life. "May the Warrior continue to lend you strength, my royal grandson," he said when Robb visited that evening. The army would ride at first light the next day. Robb would be with his men making final preparations, and Hoster would still be asleep.

The bed Robb was concerned about would have Jeyne in it with him. She was relatively plain, Robb had eventually admitted, but seeing her smile, stroking her long brown hair, and hearing her beg for strokes of a different kind made her seem as attractive to Robb as anyone. Whenever he saw her, not just when he found her in his bedchamber, he felt a respite from his worries. This evening, she was waiting for him, so impatient she had already shucked her smallclothes. Usually she liked Robb caressing her as he pulled them off. He had thought of tasting her teats tonight, but the smell of her cunt was overpowering. "Oh my big strong king!" she called out as he practically threw her onto the bed in his lust. He thrusted as ferociously as he could manage without hurting his lady lover, who was conducting herself in a profoundly unladylike manner at the moment.

He soon spent his seed, and then said "I love you even when I'm not inside you," with a beaming smile matched when an intense glance.

"As do I," she said before snuffing the candles.

The first day of the march was uneventful, except for being in shock at the desolation. The burned or abandoned fields were the last thing Westeros needed with winter coming. In the middle of the next day, they captured Lannister raiders surprised to meet armed resistance. Robb's scouts rode down the faster ones to prevent them from spreading the word to Lord Tywin. Some of the slower ones were sprayed with Tully arrows before they could even try to retreat. The same cadre of archers are shot the leader's horse out from under him.

Their commander was unmistakable. No wonder men called Gregor Clegane the Mountain That Rides. To him, there was no such thing as a two-handed sword, and he cut down several of Robb's guards before he was subdued. He was about the only man in Westeros who had reason to call the seven foot tall Jon Umbers short, and so he did, with some foul language mixed in, as he was wrestled to the ground. Robb finally dismounted to approach him. "In the name of Eddard Stark, acting as Hand Of The King for Robert Baratheon, First Of His Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, for murder, rape, thievery and other destruction beyond measuring, I do hereby sentence you to die." Robb drew his sword. Even with Gregor's helm and gorget yanked off, it still took a couple swings to hack through his thick muscular neck. The body was carried away for both proof of the kill and a nicer burial than the monster probably deserved.

Even with the most highly understandable delay, they would still make Stoney Sept before nightfall. Robb had already planned to delay the river crossing to the next morning. Ironically given the town's holy name, it was known for a brothel called the Peach. Robert Baratheon had known it well, and Edmure Tully was near as much of a womanizer. Edmure was hardly the only man in the Northern army in the mood for some whoring. They wanted to warn the madam to get the girls ready, a 'whore-ald' some men japed. Robb consented to sending off the messenger when they were within sight of the town.

The night in Stoney Sept, the crossing, and the four days' march from the crossing to King's Landing was also mostly uneventful, except for adulation for defeating Gregor Clegane. As Robb finally laid eyes on King's Landing, he saw a far more fearsome enemy, but Tywin Lannister was deployed mainly on the other side of the river as he joined battle with the forces of Stannis and Daenerys.


	9. Tyrion I

Tyrion Lannister was the runt of Tywin and Joanna's brood, but he had nevertheless taken well to the family business of war in his own way. Tywin was as coldly cunning a general as any. Jaime was one of the great knights of the current age. Tyrion's wits could be applied to weaponry as much as to anything else.

Tyrion mused on his brother's capture. _While the North did not take to the rituals of knighthood, Robb Stark's men must've bee__n good in order to defeat him_. And now his host was bearing down on King's Landing. Stannis Baratheon had joined his forces to Daenerys Targaryen's, and their armies and fleets approached the city as well. This was no time for Tywin's usual disdain of his second son – killed his mother in childbed, disabled yet all too abled in a whorehouse. _I had that to be thankful at least_, Tyrion realized. _If we weren't all about to die._

Cersei was the Lannister to be worried about; she thought rather overmuch of herself and did not act carefully. Her vicious idiot son Joffrey sat the Iron Throne, and the king's lady mother was a horrible influence upon him. _Also, __Cersei__ offered her cunt to one brother but not the other_, Tyrion muttered to himself. The small man had a large appetite for women, and he lived with one of the ones he couldn't have.

Ill news started filtering through to King's Landing. Robb's army had ambushed Gregor Clegane's raiding party. Supposedly Robb had finished off the man himself. Tywin never smiled, but he was especially unamused upon hearing of this. "Dondarrion's outlaws were revered enough amongst the smallfolk for cowardly striking against Ser Gregor's forces from the shadows. Gods know what the traitors will make of this."

Tyrion had another disquieting realization. Dorne, led by House Martell, had stayed neutral, but this would certainly win them to the side of House Stark. During the climax of Robert's Rebellion, Gregor had murdered Rhaegar's widow Elia Martell and their son Aegon. He had supposedly raped Elia with Aegon's blood still on his hands. Tyrion believed such tales of gratuitous barbarity about the giant brute. Amory Lorch was of average size yet like mind. Having less than half the brains the gods gave a turnip, Lorch had found it necessary to stab Rhaegar and Elia's daughter Rhaenys dozens of times.

Tywin continued with some words for his loyal yet brutal servant. "There is a task for every tool and a tool for every task. Gregor Clegane had found his place in loyal service of House Lannister. Would that he could have made it back to King's Landing to aid us in this struggle."

Tyrion had encountered the fierce mountain clans of the Vale after he was freed from the Eyrie, the regional capitol. He had won over the tribes with humor and very serious promises. Their languages had no word for _dwarf_ and so they improvised, calling him _Halfman_. Tyrion and the warriors of the mountain clans led Lannister forces in crushing Northern infantry at the Green Fork. _Yet the war has gone poorly since then and here we are_, Tyrion thought angrily. Whatever the odds here at King's Landing, Tyrion would fight, and if the Halfman could, certainly regular men could as well.

His clans were off harassing enemy armies on the march. However, Bronn remained with him. He had freed Tyrion from the Eyrie in a trial by combat. The man was a sellsword through and through, but Tyrion had plenty of gold to offer, and a Lannister always pays his debts.

Only a few of Stannis' ships sailed into the Blackwater Rush river before a chain was raised across the mouth of the river, trapping them to be cut to pieces by the royal fleet. _That trap worked __as intended__ but we sprung it too soon_, Tyrion mused.

The remainder of Stannis' fleet was out in Blackwater Bay when Tyrion gave his other order. "Fire!" Tyrion ordered. _Wildfire, that is. _The pots, burning green, were thrown at Stannis' ships. It seemed they would lose to smoke on the water and fire in the sky. Yet it looked like the Lannister armada was thinning as well in the chaos. The Lannisters had a strong defensive position, yet their enemies had superior numbers. No matter what they got out of this, Tyrion would never forget the smoke on the water and fire in the sky.

Tyrion saw a small fast ship approaching the end of the chain on the side of the river across from the city.

Tyrion's brilliant defenses had done what they could against the forces attacking the city. However, with two enemy hosts approaching, Tywin felt he had to offer open battle against one of them before they both converged on King's Landing. The force of the northmen and riverlords was smaller and did not include a naval component, so the Lannister host marched in that direction. To crush Stark and turn to confront Targaryen seemed sensible enough, although some had been left behind to reinforce the King's Landing City Watch; the Gold Cloaks were hardly seasoned soldiers. Appropriately, the Lannister forces that rode out to confront Stark left the city through the Lion's Gate.

Without his clans, Tyrion did not join the fight, let alone in the vanguard. His deployment at the Green Fork had been fool enough, and Tywin did not wish to repeat his mistake of spike, especially with Tyrion as his only free son. Tywin stayed in the rear as usual. They both figured they were safe in the Lannister war council tent behind the lines.

Tyrion couldn't really make sense of the battle at a distance. He had been confused enough right next to the action at the Green Fork. Robb's infantry was still weak from that battle, but the Northmen and Riverlords held the advantage in mounted knights, and the Lannister and Tyrell foot fell to a brilliant charge. The archers had been about evenly matched and the hail of arrows hadn't changed much at least so far.

However, Robb's forces eventually overran the lines. Robb himself was leading the charge. "They call my son Kingslayer," Tywin mouthed. _And what of your other son?_ Tyrion thought to himself. "And they shall soon call me the same," Tywin said while moving to draw his sword.

The man of five-and-fifty was no match for the boy of five-and-ten. _Nearly six-and-fifty, but not like to reach it_, Tyrion thought. Tywin's experience with a longsword, always kept sharp both literally and metaphorically, was no match for Robb's youthful strength with one. Robb's savage blows dented Tywin's steel until a side cut hit the joint in Tywin's armor at the left hip. The lion died with claws beared. Tyrion had chafed at Tywin's mistreatment his entire life, but the man was still his lord father cut down before his eyes.

Well, Tyrion was Lord Lannister now. One of Tywin's many slights was to not acknowledge Tyrion as his rightful heir. He had intended Casterly Rock for Jaime, but Jaime's appointment to the Kingsguard has spoiled that. Mayhaps Aerys had done that specifically to slight Tywin. Who else besides Tywin's second son? _His daughter? Gods, no! Cersei had already proved herself more than enoug__h of a disaster as regent_, Tyrion mused. _His brother Kevan?_ Tyrion had always liked Uncle Kevan, but found the man more a follower than a leader. "You ought serve the nephew as well as the brother, Ser Kevan," Tyrion said, the first announcement of his lordship.

"As you wish, Lord Tyrion," Kevan said, the first to acknowledge it.

King Loren, not to mention Robb's predecessor King Torrhen, had seen the wisdom in surrendering to dragons. Lord Tyrion recognized the prudence in giving up to wolves, and he walked unarmed to where the Young Wolf stood. No doubt Robb would support a compliant Tyrion's rights to the Rock. Tyrion Lannister became even shorter as he bent the knee to Robb Stark.


	10. Robb IV

Robb now had another Lannister in custody, and asked him "Lord Tyrion, I am pleased you are being more reasonable than your late father. Now where are my lady sisters?"

"You are using that word loosely to refer to the younger one," Tyrion japed. "She escaped. They made me marry the older one."

"I'm sure that was real hard on you," Robb japed back. It was his sister, but he wasn't blind.

"She's barely past her twelfth nameday – I'm The Imp, but I'm not a monster!"

"You are implying that it's unconsummated?" Robb analyzed.

"Yes," Tyrion confirmed.

"Then we shall find her and go to the Great Sept Of Baelor to _talk to_ the High Septon about an annulment," Robb announced.

There had been very real battle on the King's Landing tourney grounds. Stark battering rams had forced open the Lion Gate and King's Gate, also on the southwest side of the city. Similarly, Daenerys' forces had opened the River Gate on the southerast ride facing the Blackwater Rush. Supposedly, Daenerys and her guards had been the first through after the portcullis yielded to the ram, and then the city yielded. _A bold woman. We are even more alike than I thought._ He would have been first through one of the western gates had he not been occupied by steel-based discussions with Tywin Lannister. His ram crews had made an end run around the remnants of the Lannister-Tyrell army. Some Western and Reach soldiers respect Tyrion's orders to stand down if common sense had not already brought them to that conclusion. When Robb arrived at the Lion Gate, most of his soldiers had already poured through. The stragglers parted for their king.

Tyrion led them to his quarters, the group walking slowly to account for the dwarf's stunted legs. Some of Sansa's handmaidens were waiting in the solar. "Lady Sansa is in the bedchamber," one of them announced.

"Make that Princess Sansa," Robb said as he smiled. Sansa heard the familiar voice and came running out of that bedchamber. "'Tis such a relief to see you again after the news of Arya's disappearance," he said as they pulled each other close for the first time in what was a few months but felt like ages. _He didn't know if she had heard about Bran and Rickon. Furthermor__e, dwelling on that news could've reminded him of being _comforted_ by Jeyne after _he_ heard it, and this was the worst possible __situation in which to get stiff, especially since I'm not__ Jaime Lannister._ "We're on our way to have the High Septon annul your sham of a marriage," Robb announced.

"Praise the Seven!" Sansa exulted.

Once they reached the sept, one of the septons recognized Robb and Sansa, saying "We are so sorry Joffrey had this ground profaned with your lord father's blood."

"It is not the Faith's fault, it is Joffrey and Ilyn's. They shall pay," Robb answered. "For now, take us to the High Septon."

Once ushered in, the withered old man said "I have already blessed Daenerys' reign."

"I do not seek favor for my lord brother," Sansa said. "I seek an annulment of the marriage to my lord husband."

"I do not contest it," Tyrion added.

"I need only answer to one of the wedded pair, both is all the better. No matter, somebody fetch a septa," the High Septon continued. It was Moelle of the Most Devout who answered and took Sansa away for an examination. She returned to whisper something positive in the High Septon's ear, who pronounced that marriage annulled.

As they left the sept, Robb had another demand to make of Tyrion. "As we all know, House Lannister has much gold. Some of that will be required to address the damage your House did during the war." Tyrion grimaced. "Houses Stark and Tully, not to mention many minor houses and whatever smallfolk your father's armies failed to kill," Robb said, beginning to list claimants.

"I am already short enough, I do not wish to be rendered a head shorter, arrangements can be made."

"Your prudence is appreciated, Lord Tyrion," Robb acknowledged.

A large man garbed in green and black soon came running. "Cousin Jorah, I see you have returned from exile," Dacey acknowledged.

"That I have, though I may well be exiled to the Wall soon. Ah, Dacey, the oldest of Maege's girls," Jorah said to return the favor. He then turned to Robb. "Your Grace, Queen Daenerys requests your presence." Robb wondered why this messenger acknowledged his title. Well, Jorah was a northman, though he had spent years in the east. Mayhaps it was just to get him to acknowledge the Targaryen woman's crown. He hoped Daenerys had the same idea about a match between them, with him being addressed as a queen's husband as well as a king in his own right.

"Where?" Robb answered.

"The throne room," Jorah announced.

Raynald Westerling had been one of Robb's guards throughout this battle and its aftermath. Raynald was standing next to Sansa in their current formation, and said to her "You are ever so beautiful m'lady, and princesslike is even better than ladylike." She turned several shades of red as he kissed her hand. _Good_, Robb thought. _I hope this holds. A different Stark-Westerling match would be a grea__t idea._

Two young knights struggled to push open the massive doors to the Great Hall. Right inside the doors were two of the Kingsguard. _Queensguard now_, Robb supposed. He gazed down the cavernous chamber to see their slight young charge atop her throne. Robb expected anyone to look imposing on that bladed throne in that massive chamber. However, it seemed to Robb that Daenerys still would have looked every bit a queen standing in an empty field. Robb stood, silent, but remaining in that state would not impress her as a ruler or a lover. He cleared his throat and stepped forward.

Robb was flanked by sword wielders of his own and did not sense any hostility between the two sets of guards. He saw his own hilt glistening on his left hip, but knew fingering it would appear hostile. As his feet brought him closer to the throne, he saw the queen's gorgeous blonde hair elegantly draped over her body – no, lighter than blonde even. Her deep purple eyes burned into everyone in the hall, but especially him.

Although Daenerys sat, they metaphorically stood as equals, so neither bowed or removed a crown. "Here I am, Your Grace," Robb said simply.

"And so am I, on the throne that rightfully came to me from my forefathers," she answered. "You did keep your faith with former king Lord Stannis," she stated. _For her I'd __gladly break my faith with Lord Frey_, Robb thought, even more certain of that seeing her in the flesh. _I'd rather like to see more of her flesh_, Robb japed to himself. "I shall maintain it. Your army was instrumental in defeating the pretender. These things I wanted to acknowledge publicly," she explained.  
There were four Queensguard standing at the foot of the dais that held the throne. With the two at the doors and Jaime in captivity, that made all seven. One of Daenerys' Dothraki guards stood in the middle of those four, his sword with a hooked blade instead of a straight one.

"I want a private audience with His Grace," Daenerys told the crowd.

"'Tis fine by me, seems there are far worse things that the Her Grace's presence," Robb answered. They retreated to the council chambers, each posting a couple swords outside the door. Robb told Lord Umber's son to hold his tongue for once. Dacey was not so boisterous to begin with.

"There's something else you want to say. Go on, say it," Daenerys encouraged.

It seems she had read Robb's mind. "Gods, you're beautiful," he admitted.

"I know it and have heard it more times than I can count, but I wanted to hear someone like you say it," Daenerys confirmed.

"So the feeling is mutual," Robb answered, a weight lifted off his shoulders. Gods knew he had more than enough weights on his shoulders, especially at only five-and-ten.

He extended his arm to shake her hand, and she parried "I don't think that's how you want to touch me, and I know that's not how I want it". He was impressed with her, he didn't just want to press into her, but that too. So Robb hooked the arm around her back and pulled her close, using his other hand to brush hair out of her eyes before mating his lips with hers. She threw herself into it, wrapping her arms around his back to pull him yet closer. "I do believe this was meant to be, Your Grace," Robb said as he broke the liplock.

"We need to keep this quiet," Daenerys stated. "My guards don't understand Common anyway. Can we trust the discretion of yours?"

"Yes, and especially these two. The big man, Lord Jon Umber's son of the same name, is already prone to rude gossip, so the men are not like to believe him. Lady Dacey Mormont isn't personally attracted to me so she's not like to care."

Robb and Daenerys had both ensured that their armies not threaten the other. Drunken scuffles were the worst of their contact, some injurious or deadly, but that very well could happen amongst one's own troops. Robb had given orders not to pillage, and it seems Daenerys had as well. Rapes were an exception rather than the rule as it all too often was when cities were sacked.

_However, the __whores of King's Landing were already growing bowlegged._ Robb saw one of his soldiers, wearing the armored fist of House Glover, stumble drunkenly out of a brothel. Evidently he had not paid the whore, as a woman came out chasing after him. In the presence of his king, he suddenly realized the error of his ways. He lifted the whore's skirts, pulled a silver stag from his purse, and shoved it right up the whore's cunt. Several of Robb's men hooted and hollered while the ever ladylike Sansa was appropriately displeased. Robb saw one of the coins the man had spilled, and recognized his own face. Some of the first coins struck bearing his visage had been used to pay the soldiers on this march. _It was a highborn lady who had made a man out of me, and I may well be bedding a queen in the near future, but I ended up inside a whore after all_, Robb japed to himself.

The peace between wolf and dragon was not due solely to the affection of their leaders for each other, but also to a common enemy. The dragon's forces had found the lion-and-stag king, and Robb rushed to the scene upon receiving the messenger. The Dothraki guard Robb recognized from the throne room cuffed Joffrey as rudely as the little bastard deserved, pressing that sword to his throat. Another Dothraki said something to the guard in their native language and he pulled his blade away but maintained a firm grip of Joffrey's clothing. A Baratheon soldier was the one to explain the situation to Robb in Common. "This usurper's white cloaks had already left to serve their rightful queen, but the boy himself got off some crossbow bolts before being taken."

A group of both Stark and Targaryen soldiers would storm Ilyn's chambers. One of Daenerys' servants, a thick Dothraki girl, stayed in the rear to translate. Robb kicked in the door, being first through the 'main gate' like he had been at the Crag. The Dothraki guard's whip quickly ensnared the target. "You have something for me, Ser Ilyn," Robb snapped.

The mute pointed to a large dark blade in the corner, with the smoky rippled pattern characteristic of Valyrian steel. The material was incredibly strong and light, so it was a shame the secret of its manufacture had been lost. Robb was not a short man, but Ice was even taller than he was. It had been Eddard's before Ilyn used it to remove Eddard's head. To add insult to that cruel act, Ice had not been returned to House Stark whose lords had wielded it for hundreds of years.

Robb picked it up for the first time, lifting it through the air. Moving the light metal seemed almost effortless compared to the heavy regular steel he was used to wielding. It was as if his previous sword work was just training for wielding Ice.

Robb wondered what sweet names him and Daenerys might toss around in private instead of surrounded by advisers. Apparently there was a woman named Dany, and what a woman! but the shared glances were obvious enough, and the heavy matter before them did not admit to such thoughts. "I wish to kill the bastard myself," Robb told Daenerys. "It was my father's way, he who passes the sentence shall swing the sword.

"In this matter you shall serve most admirably as Queen's Justice of a sort."

Joffrey and Ilyn were dragged towards the Great Sept Of Baelor – they would not be executed on its steps so as to appeal to the Faith, but they would meet their fate on the grounds nearby. Lord Umber's son was charged with Ilyn's arrest. Cersei would not be made to watch her son die as Sansa and Arya had with their father.

Robb was again reminded of when his father had taken them to observe the execution of a deserter, a day that stuck in their minds even further for finding the direwolf pups on the return trip. Lord Umber's son pushed Joffrey down. Robb again channeled the words his father had said that fateful day. "In the name of Daenerys Targaryen First Of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lady of the Southern Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I do hereby sentence you to die." One swing of the light yet powerful blade delivered that sentence, cleaning the ex-king's head and his body. Ilyn, rendered silent in mouth by the Mad King all this years ago, was more silent in body than Joffrey as he met the same fate.

A match to Daenerys had made sense to Robb for awhile now, but meeting her made it seem like the most perfect idea in the Known World. They were inseparable during those few days in King's Landing. Some thought it was a gesture of peace and planning of alliances. Robb was especially glad the Freys believed that. However, the young monarchs' inner circles had come to know better. "The two of us together seem perfect for each other and perfect for our realms," Robb intoned as one of his many private meetings with Daenerys drew to a close. "Will you be my queen as well as your own?" he offered.

"Of course I will," she said as she smiled.

Apparently he had really found his queen this time. He wrote two letters in his own hand. One was addressed to the whole of the Riverrun garrison. _We won a decisive victory capped by me slaying Tywin in single combat. Tyrion, the new Lord Lannister, is proving much mo__re cooperative. Daenerys sits the Iron Throne. The peace with her and Lord Stannis holds. Joffrey has been executed._

As for the second, he told the raven keeper "Mark it as being for my lady mother's eyes only." _Definitely not for Frey eyes_, Robb thought, because it announced his upcoming weeding to someone of another House. It read _Sansa is safe. She was married off to Tyrion Lannister against the wishes of either, but it was unconsummated and has been annulled. Arya had already escaped the city, current __whereabouts unknown. I recovered Ice and used it to avenge myself upon Joffrey and Ilyn. I am betrothed to Queen Daenerys – I am fascinated with her, and her with me; the match makes perfect sense for love as well as politics._

**A/N**

Finally Robb and Daenerys meet! Now this is a Robb/Daenerys fic like I said and not just Robb/Jeyne anymore.

Also, the reparations idea came from FFN airdream245 via PM.


	11. Daenerys IV

Ascending those steep iron steps had been the highlight of Daenerys I Targaryen's short life so far. She cherished Drogo's memory, she looked forward to watching his son and her dragons grow, but it seemed like all that was but a prelude to House Targaryen reasserting its right to the Iron Throne. Her court had eagerly received her. As Viserys had said, they would rise for their rightful ruler. _Or perhaps they were simply eager to be rid __of their __wrong__ful ruler._

Now that the Iron Throne was back in the dragon's claws, what would she do with it? She didn't want it to be so long until another woman sat the Iron Throne. Although her brothers had been older, she found it a riotous injustice that a younger son took precedence over an older daughter. She intended to outlaw that custom.

It had long since been outlawed in Dorne. Extending that to the whole realm would earn their respect and avoid any disputes with the southeast peninsula on those grounds. One hundred seventy years ago, House Targaryen had descended into civil war over such a matter, Rhaenyra I unsuccessfully challenging her younger half-brother Aegon II for the throne. Daenerys would decree that any future Rhaenyra would reign as Rhaenrya II; House Targaryen had so far avoided that concern by not re-using the name. Ironically, Rhaenyra I's son Aegon III had been the only heir for Aegon II.

The slaves she freed called her breaker of chains, sometimes literally and sometimes not, but she had made the title clearly literal during the recent battle. Lord Stannis' expert sailor Davos Seaworth had landed her near the mouth of the river. Aggo had planted arrows in many of the chain tower guards on their approach. They had landed with her dragons. With a curt "_Dracarys_", the old High Valyrian word for 'dragonfire', they breathed upon the chains. The softened metal became easy work for bladesmen and the chain fell away. Baby dragons could do this much – grown, one dragon and rider could have carried out the entire task.

The bulk of their fleet was then clear to sail into the bay. The King's Landing defenders had already spent most of their wildfire; the small royal fleet was easily smashed.

Daenerys looked at Robb again and thought_ I like this one_. Upon hearing of Robb Stark, she thought he would be a tolerable match. Upon meeting him, though, she felt she could barely wait for their wedding day. He had proved himself an equal worthy of her, and yet his confident charm also touched her more personally.

Supposedly their meetings were for diplomatic purposes only. Signs of them bedding each other would make that lie too obvious, so they would refrain from that for now, perhaps until the grand ceremony during their wedding.

"I come to you no maid," Daenerys warned.

"That is clear enough," Robb said while looking in the direction of Rhaego being held by Irri. "Well, especially since I am no virgin myself, what does it matter?" _This attitude is a good sign_, Daenerys realized.

"You have the right of that, but I feel I should know about them," Daenerys said.

"Only one," Robb corrected. "Jeyne of House Westerling. I led my army in raiding The Crag, their seat, on the western coast. I took an arrow to the leg. Apparently the women of the house are healers, and I feel in love with the eldest daughter as she was treating my wounds."

No wonder that Jeyne Westerling had become instantly infatuated with him. Daenerys was a far greater beauty, as he was glad to remind her, and yet she was becoming just as quickly captivated. Daenerys gave a simple response, though. "She did a great thing by healing you," she said.

"I knew there would be an even better wife for me out there, and I do believe I've found her. Now you're the only one," Robb finished. Daenerys heard Robb's pain at casting Jeyne aside, even for her. Daenerys chose to view that as a good sign of how passionate of a lover Robb was.

"It seems you are hardly unfamiliar with a woman's body – care to demonstrate that again?" Daenerys said lightly. She may well be a queen, but she was a girl in love too, and seemed something similar could be said about Robb the king and boy.

He rather liked the thin smooth dresses Doreah found for his betrothed. "Such soft fabric on such firm skin," Robb panted while tracing his fingers all over her body. _I wish we could bed each other already_, Daenerys thought to herself._ Much the same could be said of His Grace's breeches_, she mentally japed.

Robb admitted something else to Daenerys as well - their union would break his marriage pact with House Frey. Daenerys saw a lot of soldiers whose arms were a blue castle on a gray field. They had certainly done their part in bringing him this far, and even with victory assured, Robb knew he had to minimize the bloodshed when the secret was revealed. Yet Lord Walder was clearly a stubborn and easily slighted man. Daenerys and Robb were both ready to enforce a decree taking The Twins away from him, but were unsure of who to give it to – his Frey heir, or another House entirely?

So much resistance to her stemmed from dismissal of women, so it was refreshing to see that Robb wasn't that kind of man in the slightest. It was evident the joy he experienced from reuniting with his sister, and the pain at missing the other one. She'd heard it said of men that 'if he treats his sisters well, he'll probably treat his wife well.' She would of course tolerate no misdeeds, but she'd prefer it never got to that point. Dacey Mormont was treated as just another sword wielder, a very good one mind you, rather than as a place for men to stick their _swords_.

They would both enter the union with a realm to their name. Daenerys could excuse _his_ declaration of independence, and she could accept being Queen Regnant in six of the seven kingdoms and Queen Consort in the other. The situation made the terms of the marriage contract to be of utmost importance.

They wanted their realms to remain separate but for there to be a joint heir so Westeros could not be torn apart by war between two different inheritors. If they died without children, one would be appointed regent for the other's underage heir. Sansa Stark and Rhaego Targaryen would be the heirs apparent by usual rules.

"As handsome a lad as Rhaego is, I would rather my first son sit the Iron Throne instead," Robb admitted.

"If our first be a son," Daenerys corrected. "I wish to change the law to have oldest children inherit regardless of whether they be woman or man."

"As it is in Dorne?" Robb realized.  
"Exactly," Daenerys acknowledged. "Lord Tyrion might just be the last younger brother to inherit before an older sister," she pointed out.

"Lady Cersei is not fit to govern a herd of swine anyway," Robb japed.

"Aye," Daenerys said in a strained voice.

She remembered the capture of the haughty Lannister woman. A group of Dothraki had found the hall she was in along with several other highborn women and one guard. Cersei had been about to order a murder-suicide. The other ladies, including Daenerys' future goodsister Sansa, had escaped in the confusion. So had the guard, Ilyn Payne, although he was now shorter by a head. Those Dothraki had been too _occupied_ with Cersei. _No__ one deserved that__, not even her._ Daenerys remembered how she had seen Dothraki behave after battle. She thought she had made it clear that rape wouldn't be tolerated from her khalasar. She had to make it clear again. Jhiqui got flustered translating the angry sentence 'That's the last thing you'll ever use your cocks for!', and the Dothraki blademan was not used to gelding men instead of horses. Daenerys had a good heart and was still brutal enough to do what needed to be done, a powerful combination.

Shaking that thought, she turned back to Robb. "If you give me a daughter first, that would be an excellent example of the new order."

"If she is half the beauty you are, we would have no trouble finding a king for her," Robb answered.

"The North may not have many knights, but you are as chivalrous all the same," Daenerys complemented.

"And we fight as well too, though it was river knights who broke the Lannister host. They were led by my uncle Ser Edmure Tully. He is younger than my lady mother Catelyn, and my lord grandfather Hoster has long since taken to sickbed. It wouldn't change the succession to the other Great Houses," Robb pointed out. "Lord Tyrell's oldest is a son anyway, Lord Baratheon has only a daughter, the new Lord Lannister is childless, and Lord Arryn is still a child."

Daenerys understood what he was hinting at. "Mayhaps my new law can be implemented after Edmure succeeds Hoster. Yet what would your lady mother think of such?"

"_Family. Duty. Honor._ She takes her House words seriously, so complain she would not."

"Do you think she would make a good Hand?" Daenerys offered.

"I have not given her that title, but I may as well have," Robb realized. "Astute diplomats make good Hands, it seems, and lads like myself and my uncle would rather be first on the battlefield. Ryam Redwyne and Myles Smallwood were good brave men, but very bad Hands." He sounded like he was reciting a maester's lessons, and he may well be. Daenerys had tried to study Westerosi lore, but it was more difficult on the run from the Usurper's agents instead of safely ensconced in one's father's castle.

Robb finally received an answer to messages he had sent his lady mother soon after the battle. _R__iverrun exults over your victory. R__eturn to __it__ with whatever forces you do not wish to leave in King's Landing. The queen would be most welcome._ Robb passed the parchment to Daenerys, who agreed with "Let us ride together".

Robb and Daenerys rode parallel towards the front of the formation. This was the first time he had seen the horselord's widow ahorse, and he said "'Tis a beautiful horse for a beautiful lady. What's her name?"

"The Dothraki do believe that a _khaleesi_ (queen) deserves a _lame_ (mare) worthy of her place at the side of the _khal_ (king)," she said, beginning a practice of switching between Common and Dothraki to teach Robb a few basic words. "However, they are not a sentimental sort liable to name their horses, so she's called simply 'the silver'."

"Some Westerosi warriors don't either. Jaime Lannister says he's had far too many destrier warhorses cut out from under him. The latest being at the Whispering Wood." As he said the last line, he laughed at the memory of the accomplishment.

"The Kingslayer, and father of that vicious idiot Joffrey, gets sent to the Wall. At least," Daenerys demanded. Joffrey's siblings Myrcella and Tommen had not been corrupted despite being bastards born of the same vile incest. Lord Tyrion had requested in open court that Daenerys legitimize his niece and surviving nephew; Her Grace found it reasonable to grant that request. Myrcella remained a ward of the Martells, House of her betrothed Trystane. King's Landing had not received any word of a broken betrothal. A Waters would not be acceptable for their son, but a Lannister instead of a Baratheon may well be accepted. Reports indicated that the match was well-liked by the pair themselves.

"Aye," Robb agreed. "I have no need of the hostage now that the war is over, now that Princess Sansa is safe and Princess Arya has escaped." The former smiled, pleased at her importance being favorably compared to that of the great knight. "He is not a man who should go free, he should not have gone free fifteen years ago, yet I do not want him dead. Gods know the Watch needs men of his ability. Lord Tyrion detested his late father, but likes his brother, and I do with to respect the fact that he bent the knee as soon as he was able to do."

The bloodriders screened the front of Daenerys' side. Robb had three knights ahead and to the left himself. "Two are literally 'blood of my blood'," Robb said, imitating the translated Dothraki phrase. "My uncle Edmure and his uncle Brynden," Robb said, pointing to the two Tully men. It was obvious Robb had gotten his looks from that side of the family. "And Raynald is my future goodbrother from the looks of it," he said pointing to the young man riding barely ahead of Sansa.

"No wonder they call you horselords, you ride like the wind," Edmure said to Rakharo through Daenerys' translation.

The song of steel in Westeros had finally calmed down for the time being, so the ride back to Riverrun was peaceful. War-weary smallfolk cheered the end of this round of depredations suffered as the high lords played their game of thrones. Robb said they had cheered on his army during the march to King's Landing, and the support seemed intensified with victory assured.

The formation worked as intended - when they arrived at Riverrun, Catelyn saw two of her children first, and their future spouses.

"_Maisi khal Rhaesh Andalhi athjahaki __rizh_," Rakharo said.

Catelyn was taken aback by the guttural tone. "What did he just say?" she asked of Daenerys.

"The Dothraki language always sounds like that," Daenerys admitted. "Yet it was a compliment nevertheless – 'The mother of the Westerosi King must be proud of such a son'." For a woman so devoted to her children, it was very much a compliment indeed.

"Tell him 'thank you'," Catelyn answered.

"There is no word for 'thank you' in Dothraki," Daenerys admitted. "_Allayafa_," she tried for Rakharo's sake. _She is pleased_.

"Your lord husband died barely a moon's turn ago and you have already accomplished so much?" Catelyn wondered. "And you even already consider another? I am pleased that you hold my son in that kind of regard, of course," she added.

"I am not a miner's mate," Daenerys said effortlessly. "I am queen by blood, not solely marriage, and felt the need to act accordingly."


	12. Robb V

Catelyn wanted to talk to her son alone. "Well, you're getting the pretty wife you wanted, that's for sure," she admitted. "I figured you wouldn't be marrying a Frey, so I've been dealing with them as best I can."

"We did talk of your adept diplomacy, Mother." It would be obvious to her that Daenerys was the one turning 'I' into 'We'. "She even wishes to name you Hand for it!" Robb joyously declared. "As such, I realized you already were Hand in all but name."

"I am honored; may the position not lead me to the fate of my dear Ned."

"Of course. Now, the Freys with me in King's Landing thought my dealings with Daenerys were strictly professional." _We fooled them, at least well enough to not d__ispel their wishful thinking._ "Not actually marrying Jeyne at least bought time." _Lord Frey said nothing about bedding women besides his daughters. Black Walder had japed that once I got ahold of one of his relatives I'd know what I was doing._

"Time we all spent well," Catelyn agreed.

"I'll give them leave to return to the Twins, an order phrased as a suggestion. As you ought remember, there are some Stark and Tully loyalists left there. Once they're free, we'll make the announcement."

"Seems cautious enough, especially by your standards. Ned gave me bold sons, 'tis sure, may the Father Above show him the mercy he wasn't accorded in this world," Catelyn said. "Speaking of Jeyne, you ought to head to her chambers," she added, obviously reminded of some very important business. Robb followed his mother down the halls to see Brienne at his now-former paramour's door. "You and Jeyne have a situation," Catelyn explained, wanting to advise her son on that before he confronted the woman.

"So my seed quickened in her. Gods, she's with child as I'm about to marry another woman," Robb realized.

"Conceived before the betrothal to another, there's no dishonor in that. Maybe that's how it was with Ned and Jon's mother, but I didn't really pry and he rebuffed me when I did," Catelyn parried. "I understand you intended to legitimize any bastard you planted in Jeyne," she continued.

"And those plans haven't changed," Robb answered.

"Since that would be your heir, we needed a guard I could trust," Catelyn explained.

"Daenerys and I determined that a child we have together would be heir to both of us," Robb explained, "but the words actually put to parchment applied that only to the Iron Throne, not to Winterfell."

"Indeed, the proof and clarity of the written word is preferred," Catelyn said.

"I thought Sansa would be the next ruler of the North, but apparently my successor now lies in Jeyne's womb. Well, I suppose I must needs see Jeyne now."

Robb closed the door behind him, and through the oak and stone, he heard murmuring between his mother and her sworn sword. He turned to Jeyne and smiled. Jeyne returned the grin and further opened her mouth to ask "You know?"

Robb answered by way of saying "Evidently my seed is strong."

"At five-and-ten it should be," Jeyne parried. "Once it takes root, I wouldn't expect much from most boys your age, but since you're mature enough for a crown, I expect you're mature enough for a son. You're more a man grown than some lazy lad at three-and-twenty."

"Or a daughter," Robb said generously. "My lord father never thought anything less of his sister or his daughters. Speaking of which, we found Sansa."

"Gods, you're your father's son," an exasperated Jeyne said. "And I suspect I would like Princess Sansa," she finished more positively.

"Raynald certainly does," Robb japed. "I hope they find themselves happily married one day." Robb's voice had a rare falter as he followed that up. "There is a different wedding in the much more immediate future."

"Which one of Walder's daughters did he stick you with as a bridge toll?" Jeyne spat with bitter sarcasm.

"No, the future Queen In The North is already a queen," Robb answered with a heavy air of self-satisfaction.

"The tales of her beauty are legendary. No wonder, that you find Daenerys Targaryen a better prospect than Jeyne Westerling," the latter admitted.

"You know I love you and would have already married you if the situation justified it," Robb said somewhat defensively, frustrated in his mind about having to go over this again. "Yes, those tales are true, yet her force of will is similarly unique."

"Your father raised his bastard. I trust you shan't run away either," Jeyne stated.

"Not only that, but I plan to legitimize it," Robb announced. He realized he had never told her that. "I think that our child ought be fostered at its lady mother's castle, though." This thought was new to him. Jon's mother was likely dead, or mayhaps living in some rude setting Eddard would want his child out of. Neither was true here. He had mentioned finding another match for her their very first morning together. It would be a political matter for the King's will, but he complimented her with "I'm sure at least one other highborn man would want sweet Jeyne as his lady wife."

"Mayhaps there will be a Jeyne Stark after all, if this be a girl?" Jeyne Westerling suggested.

"Mayhaps. Or another Robb Stark, if I'm holding a son in eight months' time."

To speak of another Jon, and it still felt odd to call someone besides his bastard half-brother that, Robb ran into Lord Umber's son. "You'll have a queen to guard soon enough. In fact, you already have. I shall become twice kinged and Daenerys twice queened." He was the third person told, after Catelyn and Jeyne.

"Upgrade!" Lord Umber's son congratulated.

Robb needed to downgrade the Kingslayer. "Ser Jaime?" Robb said as he approached the Lannister knight's cell.

"Lord Stark?" he sarcastically replied, the Tully dungeons not having taken his spirit.

"That's Your Grace to you," Robb countered, before informing the prisoner of things he absolutely had to know. "Your lord father died in battle in the Crownlands. Your lord brother was found to be much more reasonable about securing your freedom. Your chains will be struck as soon as Arya and Sansa are safe in Riverrun," Robb said explaining the planned swap. "However, you will be trading your white cloak for a black one.

"So she reminds me that I killed her father, like everyone else does," Jaime said, exasperated.

"That treason, and the three treasons named Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. 'Tis treason for a man besides the king to bed the queen, precisely because it confuses the line of succession in this manner. How many more died because Stannis and Joffrey both laid claim to Robert's throne? On top of that, like how you were on top of Cersei, you also attempted to kill my brother. Consider yourself lucky, and consider yourself lucky that this did not happen fifteen years ago."

"Who gets my white cloak?" Jaime wondered in a mutter, passively, momentarily shocked by the young king's haranguing.

Robb was willing to divulge this. "Loras Tyrell has expressed interest in taking the white."

"A skilled young knight, I would understand," Jaime said to agree with the selection. "The vows shouldn't trouble him, he's not the kind of man to be interested in taking a wife, if you know what I mean," Jaime japed.

"I do not comprehend the jape and will leave it at that," Robb admitted, "but I am very interested in that myself. My wedding to Queen Daenerys is set for her next name day."

"Uncle, I have a problem," Robb said to Edmure.

"Is the problem's name Jeyne Westerling?" Edmure guessed.

"Yes," Robb acknowledged.

"To tell you the truth, I fancy the wench myself," Edmure admitted.

"Leave the bedding until well after she's birthed your grand-nephew or grand-niece. We all know you like to cause trouble with the wenches, but if she would have you, that would solve a lot of problems. Her and the rest of House Westerling may have wanted a king, but a high lord shall do quite nicely," Robb observed.


	13. Catelyn I

Catelyn Tully Stark was very happy for her oldest son. Robb had set himself up for success both personal and political with the betrothal to Queen Daenerys. He had made the right decision about when and when not to break the Frey marriage pact. The girl he didn't break it for was going to make Catelyn a grandmother. All this almost distracted from losing her other two sons. Almost.

One of her daughters was safe back in her lady mother's arms. Princess Sansa was also ensconced with Ser Raynald Westerling, for that matter. When Robb returned victorious from King's Landing, had Catelyn met two of her children's future spouses instead of one? It would make obvious political sense – the Westerlings had hoped one of their own would marry a king; a princess was about as close as they were going to get otherwise.

And a high lord's heir – it seemed Jeyne may end up as Catelyn's goodsister instead of gooddaughter. It seemed Edmure really did fancy the young woman. _Edmure settling down? I'll believe that when I see it and only then_, Catelyn thought to herself. Robb wouldn't have tolerated an unpleasant arranged marriage for himself, so he wouldn't have done that to people he cared about. It hadn't really been discussed with Jeyne yet, but she might be attracted to some of the same looks and personality traits as well as seeing the obvious political advantages.

House Westerling had risen far in these circumstances, not solely because of their daughter's activities in the bedchamber, but also because of her activities as a healer – Robb said it had looked quite a serious wound, and now the leg was mostly back to normal. Their son's battlefield exploits had also added to the phenomenon – in short the house turned from an enemy to a cooperative vanquished foe to a loyal ally.

Catelyn's other daughter hadn't made it back home, but Arya had escaped immediate danger. In victory, Robb had avenged himself upon the killers of his father, her dearest Ned. Yet Arya had escaped their clutches even before her royal brother arrived. It was like that girl, half boy and half wolf. It was like Sansa to stay and try to negotiate, but she was cruelly outmaneuvered by masters at that game. She had fallen into the same trap as her father, but her head was still attached to her neck. Ned had been too honorable to see it coming, Sansa too naïve.

A man garbed in all black approached the gates of Riverrun. "'Tis Yoren of the Night's Watch, m'lady," he said by way of introduction.

Catelyn had already recognized the uniform; anyone in the Seven Kingdoms would. She wondered what business the Night's Watch had at the castle. Nevertheless, she bid him enter, and saw to it that the more dangerous of his reluctant recruits were confined in the castle dungeons. "I don't think we'll have any more men for you, willing or unwilling, for a few weeks' time," she admitted.

"It's not that you have someone for me. I have someone for you," he explained with a flourish. "Arry, come forth. Or should I say Arya?"

"She lives!" Catelyn screamed, decorum lost in a mother's joy.

"Mother, I was afraid I'd never see you or Jon or Robb or even Sansa ever again," the relieved daughter admitted. It seemed she knew no one would ever see Bran or Rickon again; mayhaps Robb had told her.

"'Twas my son that brought back one of my daughters, a stranger that brought back the other," Catelyn said to Yoren.

"House Stark has always been a friend of the Watch, this time the Watch was needed as a friend of House Stark," Yoren said simply. "I made sure they didn't have to watch their lord father die, and I got one of them to safety."

Yoren had also smuggled out a blacksmith's apprentice. Catelyn quickly figured out why the commoner was such a target. Looking at him, he may as well have been a younger version of Renly Baratheon, and likely was the nephew thereof, one of the many bastards Robert Baratheon had scattered throughout the realm. The boy was probably running from Cersei. Catelyn sympathized with another wife who did not care for a husband's bastards. However, Catelyn had never tried to have Jon killed.

Yet there were some things that even one's worst enemies didn't deserve. Her Ned had made one mistake; Robert had made a habit of it. No wonder Cersei had found her brother's bed more appealing, as disgusting as that was, as much of a disgrace that was in the eyes of the Seven. Catelyn allowed herself a mildly rude jape – it seemed that her and her sister Lysa were two of the few women in the realm that her brother Edmure Tully wasn't bedding.

The boy introduced himself. "It's Gendry, m'lady," he said. "I did not wish to take the black, but I thank Yoren for his hospitality all the same." The Night's Watch could always make use of a good blacksmith, but so could the forge at Riverrun. Gendry was not running from past crimes like many Night's Watch 'recruits', so he was free to go to the same smith that had forged Robb's crown.

"You may not act like much of a lady, but you are a princess. Your royal brother won this war, but it wouldn't have felt like much of a victory with both my girls gone too," Catelyn said as she embraced her younger daughter.

Well, Catelyn had the plans for her son's wedding to attend to, the celebration of that victory, a second crown for both husband and wife. She went to talk to the Riverrun septon, gazing upon the sandstone sept as she walked through the castle gardens.

"You know the words for weddings, do you not?" she asked of the man.

"Yes, m'lady, but I have said them only for servants, not for kings and queens," he answered, nervous and stammering.

"They are the same words for the lowest of the smallfolk and the highest of the highborn, such as the son and future goddaughter of mine that will be entering the sept in a few days' time." _As different as the peoples of Westeros were, the Faith Of The Seven bound most of them together._ "The Father Above judges all men fairly with the same scales," Catelyn answered, quickly dismissing the concern.

"A truly pious lady you are, 'tis one of my favorite passages from _The Book Of The Father_," the septon said approvingly. "I look forward to serving His Grace is this most important manner."


	14. Daenerys V

Daenerys Targaryen and Robb Stark had won the same war separately, and each seemed to find the other the greatest jewel of their respective victories. They came to each other as equals, rather than a beggar king's sister to a still-powerful king's bed.

"Khaleesi, it seems you love this king even more than the last one," Doreah told her. She was skilled in the ways of the bedchamber, not love, indeed, a variety of bedding particularly distanced from love. However, it didn't take a maester to see the queen and king's feelings for each other. Doreah and her fellows Jhiqui and Irri knew Daenerys better than most – at first servants, growing into friends and near-sisters even.

Though judging by her near-future goodsisters Sansa and Arya, sisterly love doesn't always amount to much. Yet the graceful, hopeful Sansa and warriorlike, resourceful Arya both found a lot to admire in their new queen.

Drogo had been chosen for her. She had realized her fate and tried to make the best she could of it. _Well, that had led her here._ However, she had chosen Robb, leaving no doubts about whether her feelings were real or an accommodation to circumstances. They were real.

"Dany?" a deep yet not booming voice said. Robb was not far removed from the high voice of boyhood, and yet here he was. Daenerys was not all that far removed from her flowering, and she also stood as a ruler. _Becoming a man grown was rather more fun than, or at least less obnoxious than, becoming a woman grown. What gods created such, if any at all? Probably deities as obnoxious as the average man._

Yet Robb's presence quickly drew her back out of such bitter thoughts. "Hello, Robb," she said softly.

Robb walked into the bedchamber she was using at Riverrun, and one of the handmaidens added something. "Khaleesi, shall we leave you two alone?" Jhiqui said, also quietly, but with more of a giggle. With a nod from their leader, they did so.

"They're not as boisterous as Lord Umber's son, but they have a mind for rude japes all the same," Robb observed.

"Aye," Daenerys told her beloved simply. _It was a curious blend existing in some highborn women and the smallfolk that worked with them_, Daenerys added to herself.

"Watch out for him during our bedding, but I am the only man lucky enough to actually have you," Robb continued.

"That you are," Daenerys cheerfully agreed.

She had no interest in batting away the hand at her left breast, none at all. He was even more insistent, when wanting to draw pleasure from it and bring pleasure to it, than Rhaego was when the babe wished to use the mound of flesh for its intended purpose.

Robb gently squeezed it. "So beautifully petite," he panted, "like all the rest of your body. When the legends said Targaryen beauty was otherworldly, they weren't kidding."

"Starks are rather handsome too," she countered. They both had enough of waiting to bed each other until their wedding in a few days' time, but Doreah had given Daenerys plenty of other ideas. She reached past the laces of Robb's breeches and squeezed his member. It had already gotten quite firm via the attention paid to her breast, but Daenerys still felt the flesh pulsating beneath her fingers.

"Ohh!" Robb moaned. The bulging veins under Daenerys' hand made for something excellent to grip onto as she moved that hand up and down within the confines of the breeches. He spilled his seed on the front within a few gleefully agonizing minutes.

"Now what did I come in here to tell you?" Robb mused, and they shared a laugh before he remembered. "Oh. Yes. It turns out I got Jeyne with child before I left for King's Landing. My father didn't run from his bastard and I won't either." He had certainly worked up the nerve to say it with enough force.

"Someone wouldn't need to know you long to understand how much you take after your father," Daenerys admitted. _And the degree to which you don't_, she added only to herself, not wanting to assault his pride. The Tully men who he also drew from had fiery personality as well as looks. And as the ruler of House Targaryen, she would know fire. That was a large part of what drew her to him, the heat that came out of the young man raised in the northern cold. "You have desires, it is known," she said, amusing herself by using the Dothraki phrase, punctuating the jape by looking at Robb's breeches.

"And my desire for her was nothing compared to my desire for you," he responded, mischievously tugging at the laces. He revealed himself stiff again. _It was looking like a better and better idea to have told the handmaidens to leave._ She used her mouth instead of her hand this time. The way Robb called out even louder, it was clear Doreah had taught her well. The former whore enjoyed hearing reviews of her techniques, an interest that seemed to be more than just professional pride.

She was four-and-ten with the weight of the world, or least a continent or two, on her shoulders. She had the right to enjoy being lovestruck like many that age. It seemed fitting that the object of her affections understood from being in much the same situation himself.

With their clothes laced back up, she called the handmaidens back in. Jhiqui was cradling Rhaego. All three of them, and most other people besides hard-hearted warriors, loved the royal babe. Yet the thick bodied translator seemed particularly affectionate with him.

"How'd you like to hold a son several months early?" Daenerys asked Robb. "Not your son of course, but you're probably the closest thing to a father Rhaego will ever know."

Jhiqui walked up with Rhaego, and Robb smiled at the thought. The pale lad looked a natural with the swarthy babe. A good thing; they'd probably have many princesses and princes to raise once they started bedding each other.

Catelyn Tully Stark had raised five ladies and lords even with her husband's time – and head – cut short. "We were not so old," she complained to Daenerys. Indeed she wasn't, at three-and-thirty, her Ned having been not much older. Catelyn had room in her heart for a new daughter despite, perhaps because of, losing her husband and two of their sons.

"Queen Rhaella died in childbed bringing you forth, did she not?" Catelyn asked of her current queen. The marriage was still a fortnight away, yet now Robb claimed only the North, leaving Daenerys undisputed queen by birth of the Riverlands as well as the five other southern kingdoms.

"She did, but as you'll have a new daughter, I'll have a new mother," Daenerys admitted through tears that were mostly happy. She admired the woman's resolute sense of purpose, though certainly quieter than her own.

Catelyn had made a lot of plans for the wedding itself. She was the only parent of either the bride or the groom left alive, and being so pious towards the Seven, she had an enthusiasm for making those arrangements. Daenerys enjoyed hearing Catelyn explain the details. She hadn't had much time for religious education running from the Usurper's sellswords. Or, that being necessary, she had doubted the quality of the Father's justice. Yet sitting the throne that was rightfully hers, she wasn't so skeptical. More to the point right now, she had walked through the fire and flames and survived, but a mother's love was one warmth she hadn't felt until she reached Riverrun.

She needed to inform her Dothraki followers of the arrangements. "Khaleesi, this is far too important to happen inside," Jhogo said of the sept.

"I married a Dothraki man in Dothraki fashion, I shall marry a Westerosi man in Westerosi fashion," Daenerys tersely insisted.

Ironically, she found it appropriate to use an example of Dothraki sexism to help make her case. "Your people say nothing of whether important events in a _woman's_ life should happen under the open sky."

She finished with another order. "I will consider it a _good_ thing if there are less than three deaths. You are tasked to help ensure that is the case."

To stop preferencing sons in inheritance was of major benefit to highborn women. The laws for the Iron Throne had been especially strict about sticking to the male line, giving priority to any male heirs, however distant. Not anymore. That was the first thing she fixed the Targaryen seal to once she physically sat the Iron Throne. Many practical administrative matters had been handled as verbal orders; this seemed a much more auspicious inaugural use of the sealing wax.

Unfortunately, females of any age and station found themselves needing to be concerned about the realm's rape epidemic. She promptly took that seriously as well, announcing what she had done to Cersei's aggressors. The law often didn't punish what it called rape, and many things that seemed like rape weren't even called that in the first place.

A husband could take his wife whenever he wanted, whether she wanted to or not. She felt in her heart Robb would never do such a thing, but Drogo had at least come closer to that more often than Daenerys would have liked to admit. To hear Cersei tell it, and she ought to be trusted as the one to know, it had been a regular habit of Robert's. Daenerys was not at all surprised to hear of more of the Usurper's vile behavior.

Daenerys had been married off young and had been relatively lucky and she would marry again still young, favored by the gods as a bride amongst many other things. However, those odds did not work out for many in Westeros. She didn't like the thought of "but she's flowered" as an excuse for underage girls getting deflowered.

Once the queen herself became six-and-ten, it would be flatly outlawed to bed underage girls, and until then, girls younger than her. The decree could be written with an exception for men only slightly older, say Raynald Westerling at three and a half years older than Sansa Stark. There were many changes Daenerys Targaryen wanted to me, but only so many she could make and implement effectively right from the start. Similarly, waiting for Edmure to succeed Hoster as Lord of House Tully would allow time for the realm to absorb the change in inheritance laws. Yet right now she focused on thought of changing herself back into a wife.


	15. Robb VI

Robb and Daenerys' wedding would be in the Tully family sept at Riverrun. The Great Sept of Baelor was often open to weddings of importance, and this was significant if any union was. Robb had dismissed that for obvious reasons. He reflected on that choice now.

"There's no way in the seven hells I'm getting married near the spot where they killed my lord father."

"This is after all where I wed your father, and I even still have the cloak he used," Catelyn observed as her son stood with her near that building.

"That would save average guests the long journey to Winterfell," Robb agreed.

"Your lord grandfather is no average guest, but he is barely fit to move about the castle, let alone undertake a journey north," Catelyn said of her bedridden father Hoster Tully.

"It may as well be the _sept_ here," Robb said. "The godswood no longer has a heart tree, so what would be the point of saying vows in the name of the old gods if they are unable to hear those words?"

"You are your father's son, of course you would think of that," Catelyn replied.

"Well, the Seven are your gods as well much of the rest of the kingdom, folk I must impress. The point is that I stand next to Daenerys," Robb finished.

Ravens had been sent throughout the south – most people of importance in the North had already been traveling with Robb. The northmen had already stretched their garrisons thin, leaving just old men and green boys back with most of the womenfolk, in order to stock their liege lord's army.

White Harbor was the only true city in the North, at the south of the White Knife river whose source was even further north than Winterfell. Its lord, Wyman Manderly, was summoned. His second son Wendel japed "my lord father knows that weddings mean food", and Wendel himself was hardly a small man.

Lord Manderly's first son Wylis, commanding his father's forces, had been amongst those captured at the Green Fork. Yet the diversion of Lannister forces there had set up the Whispering Wood and all the other victories that followed. Tyrion promptly ensured their release as part of prudently remaining in the new king and queen's good graces.

The second Greyjoy Rebellion was the major unresolved matter in this war, yet invitations had been sent to the houses of the Iron Islands as part of peace overtures. There has been no answers, responses that might not be known until the day of the wedding itself – Daenerys' fifteenth nameday, the 152nd day of the 298th year after Aegon's Landing.

Some of Robb's lords wanted to march North and confront them instead of feasting in the south. However, even an army as loyal as his could only move so far so fast for so long. They needed some sort of rest even without their king's wedding to attend to. The marriage and celebration thereof was a way to secure their victory in the south before going for another one in the North.

It was better to deal with House Frey than House Targaryen, but still, that would make returning to the North more difficult than leaving it. The Tullys had long since had enough of the Freys' recalcitrance. Lord Walder hadn't rushed to his liege lord's aid during Robert's Rebellion either. Showing up after the Battle Of The Trident was already won, he earned the epithet 'The Late Lord Frey'. The current situation provided an excellent opportunity to deal with him for good. There were worries that his heirs had learned some of the same questionable practices, so The Twins were entirely stripped from House Frey. This in turn presented a wonderful opportunity to reward the Westerlings. Why, it was the monarch's prerogative in any event.

Robb and Daenerys were together as much as possible anyway, but he made especially sure to be near her for this. Daenerys made a point of sealing the decrees in front of the ailing Lord Hoster Tully. "It was a long time coming, from whomever sat the Iron Throne," the old man announced. "As for the particular occupant of Aegon's chair, may the gods continue to favor you and my grandson."

Daenerys and Robb had moved their courts to Riverrun for the duration. Daenerys had promulgated various laws for the protection of her fellow womenfolk. Many men would need to learn to listen to a woman, and quickly. If not her, her supportive soon-to-be husband who issued his own versions of most of the decrees.

A group of Dothraki warriors who had taken liberties with Cersei were all too familiar with Daenerys' resolve. Several dozen rapers native to Westeros would be joining a certain slaver and murderous oathbreaking traitor in taking a one-way trip North, many more men than the Night's Watch usually got, if such dishonorable creatures could be called men.

The crusade against rapers was visible now. It was a change, a long-overdue one, yet people found it hard to blame their new rulers for more thoroughly enforcing laws from long before their time. Many people found it easy to praise. The women who could breathe easier as the weight of that ancient burden began to lift. Those who could breathe at all – how many had been physically injured in such attacks? Of all the Westerosi who died in childbed, how many had been carrying a raper's bastard? The men who cared about such women and were sick of the anguish, the guard duty, the vendettas.

The increase in marriageable and beddable age, as well as the rules making female inheritors much more likely, would take longer to show themselves. Besides, she was more deliberate with those changes since they would have an even greater impact on Westerosi society, especially in the intrigues of the highborn.

Yet for now, such morbid matters were both literally and metaphorically locked away in the Riverrun dungeons.

The Day came, and bringing Loras into the Queensguard was the main official act not related to the wedding. Nevertheless, Daenerys connected the two by japing "Today, one man gives me a cloak and I give another man a different cloak."

Robb talked to the new white cloak alone. "Ser Loras, Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne indicated how you felt about the late Lord Renly." Loras gulped, but Robb reassured him. "I found it hard enough to mask my love for a few days, a few weeks. I can't imagine how horrible it must be to have to hide it for a lifetime. So I do not feel your pain, but I think I might have some tiny understanding of it."

"Thank you, Your Grace," a relieved Loras replied.

"No wonder you took the white. Yet the vows apply to you as much as the other six."

"When the sun has set, no candle can replace it," Loras said solemnly. He then moved to join his new sworn brothers, each standing against one wall of the sept.

Theon and his father Balon had been attainted traitor, so dominion over the Iron Islands went to Theon's sister and Balon's daughter Asha. Asha had been amongst the ironborn raiding the North, but she had agreed to keep the peace and return Deepwood Motte to House Glover in exchange for help asserting her claim to the Iron Islands. Robb and Daenerys had both found that quite reasonable.

Robb's sisters were both glad to be part of their older brother's wedding, but knowing the Stark girls, this participation took very different forms. Sansa was with Doreah, one of Daenerys' favorite servants, spreading flowers throughout the sept. Arya was with Dacey Mormont and the elder Jon Umber, two elite Northern swords. As with Daenerys herself, the Mormont daughters were the rare type of woman who appealed to the likes of both Sansa and Arya. It was as if all seven of those Mormonts and Starks now had more sisters.

As with the ride out of King's Landing, Robb picked three guards to go with the traditional three bloodriders of the Dothraki, although he had a different three his time. Choosing Arya helped continue the training their father had begun for her, and she was a sort of pair to the other woman warrior standing to the other side of Lord Umber. Dacey was tall for a woman, several inches taller than Arya. Lord Umber and his son were tall even for men and towered over everyone present. However different they looked, the northerners all carried some sort of sword. The bloodriders were all fairly young men, but very differently armed. Rakharo wielded a sword, the curved Dothraki blade known as an arakh, but Jhogo held onto a whip handle while Aggo rode in the center with a bow in one hand.

Daenerys walked alone from the entrance to the altar of the Mother, where Robb stood waiting next to it by the altar of the Father.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls binding them as one for eternity," the septon intoned. Catelyn undoubtedly would be pleased with his beautiful voice. Robb's right hand was already intertwined with Daenerys' left, and the septon wrapped a wide piece of plain gray cloth around their wrists. They turned from facing the septon to facing each other and spoke together. "Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone, stranger, I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days." Robb saw his mother mouthing the words with an air of satisfaction, and the whole crowd cheered as the sentence was finished.

"Robb Stark has taken Daenerys Targaryen as his lawful wife and she has taken him as her lawful husband in the eyes of gods and men" the septon announced.

"We sure did!" they said, still speaking together, barely able to hold back the words. Daenerys' mouth cast the biggest smile Robb had yet seen from her.

The Stark cloak, sigil of her second husband, was placed over the white pelt that had been a token of her first.

Soon after the feasting began, Robb's most unmistakable bannerman stood up. "I knew he was Eddard's rightful heir, but he's young enough to be my grandson," Lord Umber said while looking at Lord Tully, Robb's actual grandfather. "So I thought, what does he know yet? Enough to lead us to victory in the Whispering Wood, apparently." He made another visual jape by looking at Ser Jaime, who led the Lannister loss.

The knight took it well. "I respect that he led the charge, although surrounded by a personal guard. My lord father always seemed too cautious in just sticking with the reserves."

They were two of many who unsheathed longswords and laid the blade tips on the ground. Lord Umber started a chant similar to the one he instigated in the Northern war council tent that fateful night. "King In The South!" Nobles hailing from throughout Westeros followed along, as intended.

Robb capped this short speech by hoisting Ice into the air. The ironborn knight Harras Harlaw, one of Asha's followers, was the only guest who came bearing Valyrian steel, and Nightfall was the first blade to follow Ice's example. "My wife has new titles today as well," Robb said, then bellowing four words "Queen In The North!" Lord Umber was the first to follow, and the hall echoed even louder for Daenerys.

"Daenerys…may I call you Dany, Your Grace?" Robb began nervously. It seemed odd that this overwhelmed him at all when being one of the first onto the battlefield didn't.

"You may," she smiled back.

"Good, for Valyrian names do not roll easily off Westerosi tongues," Robb admitted.

"Roll onto her!" someone shouted, impatient for the bedding after filling himself with special Arbor water.

Robb felt he'd use the interruption instead of ignore it. "I am looking forward to that part of today's festivities as well, moreso than you because I'm the one who actually gets to be alone with her." That quieted the japing drunk. "Even capturing Ser Jaime be not so impressive compared to hatching dragons, yet it seems the gods have favored the North as well, ever since the Whispering Wood. They must have, for they let me marry the most beautiful woman in the Known World." She didn't even blush, but was already red enough. She had since removed both her Stark cloak and unsigiled fur coat to reveal Targaryen colors, a deep red gown with simmering black accents.

The oaf Mace Tyrell and the boring Stannis Baratheon were not much of a sight as they brought their wives onto the dance floor. Doran Martell did not wish to talk about his wife's absence. Even had she been present, he was too racked by gout to stand, let alone dance. Robert Arryn was a boy far too young for a wife. _Though still far too old to be at his _mother's_ breast_, some japed.

Asha was amongst the masses of Westerosi nobility in attendance, surrounded by crew of her warship _Black Wind_. She had unexpectedly inherited too recently to start thinking about her own heirs. Besides, she was more comfortable with the likes of Arya and Dacey instead of Sansa and Jeyne. The house guards and the Queensguard stood silently at the edge of the hall. "The gods favor you the double king and Daenerys the double queen," Asha stated. "I would not at all have complained about a similar alliance, a wonderful match you obviously are."

"It does mean a lot when a woman tough enough to rise amongst the Ironborn thinks of that nevertheless," Robb admitted as Asha went to join the other sword wielders. Margaery Tyrell carried some regret too, for the Tyrells has been defeated on the battlefield instead of won in the sept.

Princess Sansa was still infatuated with Ser Raynald and they made quite a sight. Jeyne was with child but not yet visibly so, so there was no scandal in swaying with Edmure Tully to the music.

Tyrion approached the wall of guards, extended his hand, and said "Lady Tarth?" _Again Tyrion used that word loosely, _Robb thought, but Brienne answered Tyrion's request, leaning her sword up against the wall. She was two and half feet taller than him, and they were two of the ugliest members of the Westerosi nobility, but their earnest effort dancing in the Hall appealed to the crowd. Or the audience was laughing at them. Well, Tyrion and Brienne would understand each other in that regard at least

As the boisterous crowd returned to another round of feasting, Lord Tyrion Lannister had some private advice for his king, waddling up to the dais to whisper in his ear. "A man about to bed a woman shouldn't drink too much, even if he's as young as you, Your Grace. I've learned this the hard way, or not so hard way." Robb nodded as Tyrion hoisted his own filled goblet. "Some wine is always good. To the King and Queen!" he toasted.

Robb announced another pressing matter from the dais. "After the end of these festivities, Lord Umber and his son are to escort these new Night's Watch recruits to Castle Black. Then they have my leave to return to Last Hearth. The Umber soldiers needs not travel all the way to the Wall." However, he had chosen the Umbers for this mission because they lived close to the Wall anyway. Yoren the Night's Watch recruiter needed the reinforcements. Sworn knights were rare in the Watch these days, and now they were getting two in Jaime and Jorah. They were joined by the rapers and other criminals, and the announcement's prominence had even drawn some free volunteers.

The dragons were outside on the lands to the west of the castle. Confinement stunted dragons' growth. The Targaryens of old had built an utterly massive structure in King's Landing called the Dragonpit, and even that hadn't been enough for those beasts. These were small, but not for long. Even at their current size, they awed everyone who saw them, since no one alive would have remembered the last dragons. They made short work of the meats sent out by the kitchens, charring and swallowing.

Back inside the Great Hall, "The new coat of arms, Your Grace," one armorer said as he presented a breastplate to Robb. "A direwolf argent on a field of white and a dragon gules on a field of black combatant," he explained to the crowd, combining Stark and Targaryen sigils as Joffrey had done with Baratheon and Lannister arms. The words _Ice And Fire_ were etched at the bottom of it.

Only members of both houses were entitled to bear these new arms. The other Starks would continue with the full Stark sigil. Dothraki wore no armor, but Rhaego would eventually carry the full Targaryen sigil, perhaps as the paint scheme on a leather vest. So far only Robb and Daenerys were of both houses, until their union produced heirs.

The singer was certainly very aware that he was playing a wedding, going through many of the classic love songs - _Two Hearts That Beat As One_, _Oh Lay My Sweet Lass Down In The Grass_, and so on. Robb and Daenerys gazed at each other and drank in every word. The singer finished _My Lady Wife _and said "I apologize if that seems like an understatement, my Queen."

"Your voice is beautiful, it is known, you are forgiven," answered Daenerys, now a queen by marriage as well as birth.

He started playing _The Queen Took Off Her Sandal, The King Took Off His Crown_, meaning it was time to strip the newlyweds and carry them to bed. Daenerys and Robb both actually removed the specified accessories. The mother of the groom took them in for safekeeping, as Robb's relatives were some of the few people present who had no interest in the bedding.

"Without 'er gown, she's the most beautiful woman in _two_ Known Worlds," someone called out as the last wisps of Daenerys' cloth flame sputtered to the castle floor.

The attention turned back to Robb. "He may be from the North, but he isn't lacking down south," Doreah pointed out, speaking to the crowd in general. A man's arousal was much more visible, but people watching Daenerys closely, and gods there were many, knew she just as eagerly anticipated what awaited beneath the sheets. Doreah leaned in to whisper in Robb's ear. "When you bed her, kiss her _there_. Trust me." Robb nodded his assent.

The frenzied crowd finally got them wrapped in the bedchamber's blankets and waited right on the other side of the door.

"Now a Targaryen's kneeling to a Stark, huh?" Lord Umber's son had plenty of rude japes when it came to Jeyne, so he was even more enthusiastic now that his king had a wife. Three centuries ago, the last Stark king submitted to the first Targaryen king. Now, the first Targaryen queen took the manhood of the next Stark king into her mouth.

"Yes," Robb moaned back.

"What, she can't answer for herself because her mouth is full?" this Jon realized.

"The King Of Winter is coming!" Robb shouted back.

Robb picked his bride up by the waist, savoring the feel of Daenerys' naked firm young rear end in his hands for the first time. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bed. She came to rest atop the blankets, a mixture of her leaning back and him laying her down. He remembered Doreah's instructions, parting Daenerys' lower lips and kissing the pink bud he saw within. Doreah was beyond right, as the queen's writhing and moaning clearly indicated. It was beyond Jeyne's reaction even when Robb finished bedding her, and this couple was just getting started. "Robb! Robb! Robb!" she said rhythmically.

There was no doubt the crowd outside the door heard her loud and clear. "So what's it like riding a dragon?" an anonymous soul called back.

"He'll have to mount me and find out!" Daenerys challenged.

Robb gladly investigated. He slid his cock between her thighs and into her cunt so easily, she may as well have been as wet as the forked river surrounding the castle. He moaned "Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!" Daenerys wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him even closer as he thrust into her. Robb had an answer for the unknown person on the other side of the door. "At least her claws aren't so sharp!" he shouted. "But oh she's still filled with fire!"

"Seems like she's got plenty of ice in her right now!" the same voice countered.

"Did Jeyne ever have the pleasure of the king's kiss?" Daenerys asked quietly.

"No, that was only for you, my queen. You can credit your girl Doreah for that idea," Robb answered with an air of satisfaction.

"She does know those things, and I'm glad she does!" Daenerys exulted.

In the morning, they lay amidst sheets tangled by having moved their bodies in any way they could think of. Each of them had guards in the hall throughout the night, a much more eventful evening than most moonlight sentry duty. Yet the unarmed would soon come to visit. "Khaleesi, care to break your fast?" Irri asked of her queen.

"No, I'm still stuffed from that seven course feast," Daenerys answered.

"And she's full of something else too," Robb parried as he drew his bride's body close yet again. "She's hungry for nothing besides me right now, but I could use some bread and meat."

"Your Grace. You have risen as well," Irri observed.

"In more ways than one," Robb answered mischievously as he pushed into his new wife yet again. After he finished, the king and queen faced each other side to side and he said "May our reigns and our marriage both be even half as blissfully smooth as this."


End file.
